Stolen Eyes
by Zidiane
Summary: When new emotions form between Sam and Freddie, new feelings stir in Carly. 2 yrs later, Freddie and Carly are dating, and Sam is gone. Why has Sam disappeared, can Freddie get over his pain of losing Sam, and can Carly ever forgive Sam for what she did?
1. 01 Stolen Eyes C

Hey there. Well now… I feel awkward. I don't know much about iCarly fics. I didn't even plan on writing a story for the fandom, but after getting into an argument with someone who insulted Sam in a way I will not get into at the moment, the idea for this story formed. I watch the show whenever I can, considering I don't have cable, and I'm not a big huge psycho fan, so this will probably be the only story I write for this fandom.

oh yeah. this story contains major Seddie and Creddie, probably some moderate-to-major Cam (in a friendship kind of way), and i've planned out an ending already. however, that doesn't mean the story will end as i plan it. you can ask for either a Seddie or Creddie ending if you'd like, and if you present a compelling argument i might comply, or, at the very least, apply it to the story. you can, however, ask for more scenes regarding either pairing, and i will try to implement more of those scenes. giving me ideas for scenes will help too.

BEFORE YOU READ: I feel I need to start off by telling you I mislead you. The story preview, while awesome, probably lead you to believe this story takes place after shits already hit the fan. While technically true, and at the beginning of each chapter I will show you the world two years afterwards (this chapters clip is short compared to the others planned), most of this story will take place in the past. I don't know why I did that, but it seemed cool, and it'll have you wondering stuff and learning things that you didn't know you already knew… wait a minute, I confused myself. Well, it doesn't matter anyway. You'll experience the story, so get to it.

UPDATE: alright, before start reading, the two characters you saw tagged in this story (whether it was sam+freddie or carly+freddie) aren't the only main characters, and they're not the "Pairing" for this story. this particular fic has three central main characters, as in they are all equal to each other, but unfortunately doesn't have the option to select three characters to tag. so, i will be rotating the tagged characters to be fair to all three of them, and to not mislead any people into thinking their pair will win or lose in the end. the only reson i'm not putting sam+carly in there is because whenever i see a sam+carl story with 'romance' as one of it's genre's, i think it's a story in which they get romantic with each other. i don't want to mislead people that bad.

* * *

**{Carly}**

* * *

It's early in the morning. Really early; the sun's not even up yet. A chill runs down my spine as cold air brushes against my bare skin. I look around my bed to find what woke me up. It's Freddie. He's sitting up on the side of the bed and staring out an open window. I'm only just able to make out his outline with the star light.

"Fr…. Freddie? What are you doing?" I ask, rubbing some of the sleep from my eyes.

He turns slightly to look at me. "I woke you? Sorry… I was just… I couldn't sleep." A hollow look flashes in his eyes for a moment, but it's gone almost before I can notice it.

"Freddie…" I whisper, sitting up to see him better. _'He's thinking about Her again…'._ "Come here."

I grab his arm and pull him into bed, kissing his lips as I pull him underneath me. He doesn't kiss me back at first, but he soon becomes cooperative. And as he becomes more active, his touch becomes more aggressive. I quickly find myself underneath him.

"Carly," he whispers huskily in between kisses. He then all but tears my underwear off, whispering my name to himself a few more times as he does, and starts kissing me again.

'_Don't worry'_, I think to myself. _'I'll make you forget all about Her'_. And as that thought passes through my head, I start to remember what started all of this.

* * *

**Flash Back**

* * *

"And we're clear! Another great show, guys," Freddie praised with a smile as he hit a few buttons on his laptop.

"Thanks, Freddie," I chirped happily, throwing the spoon hat I borrowed from Spencer onto the table. "You did a good job with the voice changers, they were really funny!" I added as I made my way over to his tech-cart, anxious to see the ratings for this week's iCarly. Freddie had made this voice changer system thingy on his computer that makes me sound like Sam, and Sam sound like me. It worked using frequencies or something, and it was set up specifically for mine and Sam's voice patterns. Freddie had spent a lot of time on it, and it really showed.

"No problem," Freddie answered from his computer without looking up.

He set his camera down, and his fingers danced elegantly across the keys. _'I still can't get over how fast he can do that; it's amazing, in its own little way.'_

"So what's our ratings looking like this week, Fredward," Sam asked from directly behind him, peeking over her shoulder to look at the screen. I turned back toward where Sam was when I last saw her. I know for a fact she was standing by me when the show was over, but she had somehow ghosted behind Freddie without me noticing, even though I was looking at him the whole time.

"Wow, Sam, I didn't know you could move that fast when food wasn't involved," I teased as I made it to Freddie's tech-cart.

"We're up 18% from last week!" Freddie exclaimed, looking excitedly over his shoulder to a grinning Sam. "This is our highest rated broadcast ever!"

"Nice job, Benson! That deserves a reward of some kind."

"A reward…?" Freddie asked, turning back to his laptop as he smirked. "What for," he continued after only a moment's hesitation, "I haven't done anything different from normal."

"It was that voice changing program, genius. It was a huge success; this week's ratings went up because of you," Sam commended before flicking him in his temple.

"Ow!" Freddie cried playfully, holding his head dramatically. "Some reward, Puckett!"

"What'd you expect, a kiss?" she asked sarcastically, pushing him away from his laptop to check the ratings and comments herself.

"Well, I didn't expect physical abuse," he countered, crossing his arms and staring at Sam's fingers as they sloppily (but surprisingly accurately) pounded the keys to reply to comments she felt deserved her personal reply.

"I'm too tired for emotional abuse right now, so you'll just have to…" Sam quipped almost automatically, but stopped as she noticed Freddie staring at her hands. "What?"

"Your hands, Sam… you never wash your hands. I'm going to have to disinfect the keys again," he explained seriously, shivering at the thought of her unwashed hands sullying his computer.

"You really are becoming your mother, aren't you?" Sam asked, lifting her hands to smear them across his face.

"Aggh- SAM!" Freddie yelped, grabbing her wrists in an attempt to fight off her hands.

"Oh, come on, Fredlumps!" she cried out happily. "A little _grime_ never hurt no one!" she continued, knocking him to the floor and sitting on his stomach as she tried to force her hands onto his face.

A sad smile crept across my lips as I watch them. They've been doing this a lot lately: they go into their own little world as they argue, and it takes actual effort for me to draw their attention back to the real world. I actually feel a little jealous as I catch the look in Freddie's eyes. Sam is all he's looking at. I mean, yeah, she's kinda sitting on his stomach at the moment, trying to rub her dirty hands on his face, but still. I can't remember the last time I walked into a room and had Freddie just look at me and only me. I don't have his attention anymore, it's all for her. It's like she has his whole world in her eyes. And he has hers.

"Damn it, Sam, untie me!" Freddie cries out weakly from the floor. I had only been lost in thought for a few seconds, and Sam ties Freddie up with one of the cords from his cart!

"Ugh… fine," Sam groans, then kneels down beside him to fiddle with the knots.

"Don't say it like someone else tied me up!" Freddie yelled incredulously. Sam stopped, stared at Freddie for a moment, then stood back up and walked towards the door, leaving Freddie still very much bound. "H-hey, wait! Sam, I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to yell at you!"

Freddie's changing around her. A lot. He actually cares what happens to Sam. Even the little things that aren't a big deal, like when she got a stomach ache from eating too much ham last month. He'll even get worried if we can't get in touch with her for too long. Sam's changing, too. She looks at him more like…

Sam turned back as she reached the door, a playful twinkle in her eyes. "Apology accepted," she said in a sing-song tone, holding up a square leather item that looked a lot like…

"You- you stole my wallet!" Freddie yelled again, his mouth hanging open. "One hell of a way to reward a guy!"

"No, my little piggy bank, the reward is you get to buy me a smoothie, fries and a burger. Lucky you. I'll see you at the Groovy Smoothie."

"Yeah," Freddie grumbled, shaking his head as he looked away from Sam. "It's a date," he added sarcastically.

"Yeah," Sam whispered sweetly, smiling when she saw Freddie's eyes shoot back to her. "In your dreams, Frednub," she added in the same tone before her form disappeared through the door.

A few seconds passed, with Freddie just staring at the door, before I spoke again. "Want some help, Freddie?"

"Carly?" he asked, turning his head to face me with slight surprise on his face. It's almost as if… "Oh, I didn't see you there. Yeah, could you help me up?"

A pang bolts through my chest hearing that my presence was completely forgotten by the boy who once worshiped the ground I walked on. I smile, to keep appearances up, and help him out of his bindings. "Hey, Freddie…" I start as he stands up. "Are you doing anything tonight?"

"Tonight?" he asked himself while looking to the ceiling. "Well, I have to go restock on disinfectant and anti-bacterial sprays, hand sanitizers, and liquid soap later on today."

"Okay, well I… wait; sprays, sanitizers, and soap?"

"Yeah. I have to change the hand sanitizers in my house, three of them are almost empty, the bathroom only has two bags of liquid soap left, and—"

"Never mind. Just… never mind. You _are _turning into your mother."

"Hey, it's very important to have all the dispensers full, and-"

"_Moving _on!" I interrupted, raising my hands in an 'enough already' motion.

Freddie stopped. He cocked an eyebrow, in a very Sam like manner I noted, crossed his arms, and waited for me to start talking.

"Thank you. Now, I was asking if you—" I asked, feeling my heart start to beat faster (something that has, by the way, never happened with Freddie even nearby).

"Carly!" my brother's distressed voice sounds from down stairs.

"WHAT!" I holler back, my voice rising unintentionally.

"Can you come help me!" he cried out childishly.

"NO! You're a big boy; do it yourself!"

"But Caaarlyyy! I'm stuuuck!" he whined loudly, sounding very much like a 5-year-old.

"FIIIIINE!" I yelled back at him. I looked to Freddie, who had an amused smirk, then headed down to see Spencer.

* * *

"I still don't understand why you had both of your hands, your foot, and your face glued to the wall."

"I already told you," Spencer started as if explaining a math problem, "I was using the—"

"No, I know HOW it happened," I snapped, looking to the front door. "I don't understand WHY you would put your foot up there, and then your FACE! Seriously Spencer, how did you think pushing your face against the wall would help you get out?"

"… Well, no need to be hurtful," Spencer muttered to himself with a downcast expression. "Don't be all mad at me just because you're worried about Freddie," he added before standing up and moving into the kitchen.

"Fr-Freddie?" I blurted out, quickly trying to assess what Spencer could possibly know about the situation. "Wha-why would I be worried about Freddie?"

"I have no idea," Spencer answered as he made himself a bowl of fiber-nuts cereal. "But after he left, you started doing that thing you do when you're upset or overly worried about something."

"Thing? What thing? I don't do a 'Thing' when I get upset!"

"Yeah you do," Spencer replied simply as he poured milk in his cereal. "In fact, you're doing it right now."

"What? What am I… I'm not doing anything!"

"No, you are" Spencer said through a mouth-full of cereal. "When you're upset, you get all angry, snap at people, and are little rude."

"I'm not snapping!" I yelled quickly, a little louder than I intended too. "That's not a 'Thing', that's just what people do when their… people just do that sometimes!"

"Yeah, that part was a little obvious, but the 'Thing' is the other thing you do when you're worried about something."

I waited for Spencer to elaborate, but he just stopped talking and calmly shoveled his cereal into his mouth, looking a bit like an animal eating grass the way he chewed. I waited patiently, but I could feel my frustration building each time he chewed, to the point where I felt myself shaking slightly. "SPENCER!" I shouted, slamming my hands onto the table for emphasis.

"AHH!" he squealed, spitting out some cereal and dropping his spoon. "What!"

"Tell me the thing I do when I'm worried!"

"You scream at random intervals and make me lose cereal?" he asked, sounding a little shaken as he picked his spoon up from the floor.

"No! You said I did something when I'm worried! Tell me what it is, I want to know!"

"Yeah, no," he said before blowing on the spoon. "If I tell you," he continued as he put the spoon back into the bowl to get another spoonful of fiber-nuts, "You'll notice it and stop doing it. I worked hard to find it, and, as an older brother, I deserve to be able to read my younger sister. Or, at least tell when she's upset and won't tell me."

"I won't stop doing it, just tell me what it is!"

"Do you remember when you were 13?"

"Uh… sort of? I can't recall entire year, if that's what you're asking."

"When you were 13, I found out how to tell if you were unhappy. Do you remember? You used to put your hair behind your ear a lot."

"Oh yeah, I remember that."

"Well, you asked me how I could always tell when you were unhappy, because you always tried to hide your feelings, so I told you. After that day, you never did it again." Spencer stopped eating his cereal, and turned to me with a serious and sincere expression on his face. "You like to pretend that you're fine all the time. You pretend everything's perfect, even when things are really bad. I don't like the feeling of not knowing if my little sister needs help, so I won't tell you."

I couldn't say anything. I was going to threaten him with taking away his rubber shower duck, but now I feel bad for even thinking something like that.

"So," Spencer started, returning to his cereal, "are you going to talk to me about Freddie, are you going to go find him and Sam, or are you just going to pretend nothing happened?"

I thought about it for a moment. I would probably have watched TV and pretended nothing happened before Spencer asked me what I was going to do, but now it doesn't seem like the thing I should do. I could go see Freddie and Sam at the Groovy Smoothie, but I don't think I'll really accomplish anything by going to see them… they'll probably just forget I'm there when they start arguing…

I pulled a chair out from the table, and sat in it, angled slightly away from Spencer. "Alright… I think I might be in love with Freddie."

* * *

**Author's Box**

* * *

Well, I don't really know what to say. I mean, this is all very foreign to me. Well… I guess I could just leave simple commentary. Okay… at the end, Carly admits she thinks she loves Freddie. That's important. Oh, and the thing Carly does when she's worried is not important in any way to the story, and it doesn't happen in the show, but maybe I'll tell you later. Also, the fiber-nuts thing: I've always been curious about the fiber-nuts, but I now know why. Why does Spencer have fiber-nuts in his house, especially since other people tend to find them gross? I'll explain my theory in another chapter, or if anyone so curious that you want to know now, you can PM me, and I'll tell you. Also if the entire internet world already knows why he always has fiber-nuts, excuse me for believing I was the first. Oh, and finally, the reviews. I might not finish this story, or even write another chapter, but the more reviews I get, the higher the chance of me finishing this story. I feel good when I read what people thought of the story, and I feel even better when I read exactly how good a story/chapter made someone feel. Not really asking for reviews at this point, but if you want to see more of this story, than I think it's best to leave a review. If you hated the story, and would rather not see another chapter, than you probably don't really care how many reviews I get, so whatever.


	2. 02 Lost But Not Forgotten F

Hello! Let me ask you a question: Who's got two thumbs and a second chapter? This guuuuuuy *Gestures to myself in an exaggerated manner with both thumbs*! That's right! While I'm not getting as many reviews/favs/alerts as I could get with a Naruto story (even though this is just the first chapter), I have to say all 4 of your reviews made me feel pumped about doing another chapter. There may not be as many iCarly fans, but it seems you guys might generally be friendlier. I don't mind many comments I get, but sometimes really nice comments are good to hear (I get nice comments for the Naruto story; they're just usually a bit rougher).

Oh, and, I poked around some of the other stories in this fandom. Not many of them I liked (I'm very picky about reading material), but of the ones I did like, I noticed something. When they were doing different perspectives for different characters (mainly Carly Freddie and Sam), there was no real difference. Like, Freddie's perspective and inner thoughts were too similar to Sam's and Carly's. So, I will be trying to give each of my main characters different styles. I'm not used to this, but I think it will be very good practice. Tell me what you thought of Freddie's style, and/or what you thought of how it was different from Carly's. I've written a bit for Sam, and I must say, I like her style. You'll get to see that next chapter.

Oh! Yeah, and, each character's chapters will take place in the blind spot of other characters. Example: Freddie's story explained the gap between Spencer getting stuck, and Carly freeing him. I probably won't overlap character perspectives too much (example: writing what Sam or Freddie was thinking and feeling during their fighting last chapter), and I hope that helps to give my story a more unique feel than other iCarly stories.

* * *

**(Freddie)**

* * *

I spoon another bite of cereal into my mouth. Lucky charms. No matter how bad my day is (or morning, in most cases), a bowl of lucky charms will pick me right up. _Clink. _Or, at least until the spoon hits the bottom; that sound means I'm almost out of cereal. I sigh, wondering how long I can make the last couple marshmallows last.

I contemplate for a moment on whether or not I should add some more cereal. One bowl just doesn't seem like enough. Not today. I'm sure I would've caved, if given only a few more seconds, but apparently someone up there thinks one bowl is enough.

"Hey." Her sweet and cheery voice wraps around me as I'm hugged from behind. Her dainty arms drape themselves loosely around my neck. Her delicate sigh tells me I'm about to have to go somewhere.

"Carly, I… I don't really feel like going anywhere today. Can we just stay home for the day? We could go tomorrow."

My pleads fall on deaf ears, and she guides me to my feet by my arm. "Not a chance. Come on, I want to go see Spencer. And I'm sure your mother wants to see you, too."

_*Sigh*_. I try to evaluate all of my possible excuses, and her possible counters, but it's all for naught. She mentioned my mother. I can't really focus on anything too complicated (such as Carly's counters, my counter-counter's, and her (inevitable) counter-counter-counter's), so I just nod my submission.

"Alright," she whispers, kissing me softly before leaving to get dressed. I stand still for a moment, watching her retreat into our bedroom, before sitting down to finish my cereal.

After drinking the remainder of the milk in my cereal, I start thinking about Sam again. I can feel my face twist up a bit. It's not surprising; the thought of Sam brings up so many feelings. Anger, hurt, love, longing, confusion, worry, just to name a few; I'm not sure if I can ever truly forget about her, though. Her face will always be tied to any mention of my mother.

* * *

**Flash Back**

* * *

We head down the stairs. Spencer is apparently trapped somehow, probably in a hilarious way, and can't get out without assistance.

Carly leads our hurried march, seemingly upset that Spencer got stuck. Again. But, I'm confused: is Carly upset because she's tired of her brother not being able to keep himself out of such simple trouble for more than a few days, or is she upset because we were interrupted? She seemed to be trying to ask me something important, but I have no idea what she could have possibly wanted from me. Maybe she needed to ask me something about iCarly later?

"Caaaarlyyyy!" I hear Spencer's voice, helplessness ringing in every note. It snapped me out of my short inner monologue, and I notice we've reached the bottom of the stairs.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" was Carly's irate reply. Yeah, she was definitely upset about something; something I'm glad I wasn't the cause of. Carly's not one for violence, and I've only seen her get physically aggressive once or twice (each time with me, surprisingly), but her tone suggests pulling a prank on Sam while Sam is in a bad mood would be a more pleasant experience than being the target of her irritation.

Spencer is across from the elevator, standing on one foot while all other limbs (as well as his head) were pressed up against a wall. "Spencer, what did you do?" I ask, taking a few steps towards him to examine the situation from up close.

"Oh, hey Freddie!" he called happily, waggling his body in my direction (waggling is the only word that comes to mind with his… awkward movements).

"Uh… hey, Spence. You get stuck?" I ask him slowly, unsure how to actually talk to someone in the strange position Spencer was now in.

He stops 'waggling' for a moment, then his entire body sags. "… Yeah… I got stuck…" He didn't have to even speak for me to know that he got depressed thinking about it (getting stuck), because, as always, Spencer's unique body language was all that was really necessary to tell what he was feeling.

I look around, noticing Carly hadn't said anything since we saw Spencer, and find that she is not in the room. She probably went to go get the glue dissolving equipment always stocked in abundance in this apartment.

"Spencer, hold on," Carly's orders, coming down from the second floor with the jar of adhesive dissolving liquid. I hadn't even noticed her going up the stairs… that's weird; I pride myself on being very aware of my surroundings (one of the few things I can honestly have pride in)…

Carly applies some of the liquid to Spencer's face, hands, and foot. "So," Spencer started, waggling his body towards me again, "What's up with Sam? She left in a good mood and was flaunting Freddie's wallet around like a parade float."

"Agh! Sam!" I cried out, having almost forgotten Sam had my wallet. I needed to get to the Groovy Smoothie soon. "She'll spend all my money if I'm late! Ugh, bye!" I called behind me as I ran to the door. "I'll come by later to…" I said, but stopped when I saw Carly. She seemed a little more upset than she was a moment ago, and was holding Spencer's leg; she was ripping him away from the wall, even though the glue seemed to still be very much adhering him to the wall, and his pain-filled yelps filled the apartment.

"Dang it Spencer! Get off the wall!" she hollered at him, seeming to increase her efforts to rip out the chunk of wall attached to Spencer's face.

Yeah… I closed the door quietly, trying not to draw her attention. Sam already cashed in all of my free 'beat down' cards for the day, and I'm not into giving loans.

* * *

I run all the way to the Groovy Smoothie, which is only about 5 blocks away. I know she couldn't have had more than a few minutes head start, even more if she got to use the elevator (when I got there, the elevator was stuck on the first floor. Crappy elevator mechanics. I had to run all the way down the stairs, too.), so she must have at least walked quickly to get to the Groovy Smoothie first. At least, that's what I thought before I reached the smoothie restaurant.

I looked around, but didn't see Sam. I expected her to be lounging at one of the tables, rifling through my wallet with that cocky and triumphant smirk of hers.

"Hey, T-Bo," I call after triple checking all of the tables. "Did Sam come in here?"

"Naw, Freddie, haven't seen her all day. Wanna buy an egg?"

I shook my head and turned to leave. "No, I think… wait, an egg?" I asked, turning back to him curiously.

"Yup," he affirmed proudly, holding out his stick of eggs. "Hardboiled. 75 cent a piece."

"Wow… well, Sam took my wallet; I have to go find her."

"Aw, come on, man! You never buy none of my stick foods!" he half yelled at me, looking like he was very upset at my constant refusal of his stick foods. "I thought you were my friend!"

"Al-alright, T-Bo, I'll come back and buy one later today. I promise."

Suddenly, as if someone flipped a switch, T-Bo's normal and happier disposition returned full force. "Alright! See ya later!"

I just stared at him, dumbfounded. Did he just trick me? As if reading my mind, he spoke. "I took some acting classes in middle school, and I watched a play in college." He seemed rather proud of those two facts, so I said nothing about them; I just turned and left the restaurant.

I looked around, but saw no sign of Sam. I headed back to the Bushwell Plaza at a walking pace. It's not that the running has exhausted me; I just have no further reason to hurry.

I had actually convinced my mother that doing more physical exercises would make me safer (she had, until that point, refused to allow me to do anything physical, excluding gym at school, because it was too dangerous. I might pull a muscle or something). One scenario that I presented was something like: what if one day, when I'm coming home from work (I needed to imply it would happen later, or she would go into 'overdrive psycho mother' mode), some 'hoodlum' attacked me, and, because I wasn't physically strong, he was able to stab me to get my wallet. That same week I got signed up for going to the gym several times a week with a personal trainer.

After walking for about half a block, I started to get a twisting feeling in my stomach. What if something happened to Sam? She would never skip a visit to the Groovy Smoothie, especially if it meant I was paying (which it almost always did anyway). Where could she have gone? There aren't really any stores close to here. Well, there's one on the other side, maybe Sam stopped there to get a Fat Cake first. Yeah, that made sense.

I pulled out my phone and texted Sam. I kept walking, but when she didn't reply for about 25 seconds, I started getting worried again: if Sam had her phone, she would always reply to a text message. Always. I pulled out my phone again, checking the inbox just to be sure I didn't miss her message, then I sent her another message.

After I hit the send button, I heard a metallic rattling sound to my left. I jumped a little, then turned to see what it was. I saw nothing, just an alleyway. I turned to leave, and lifted my phone again. I tried calling Sam this time. That's when I heard her ring tone. My heart stopped, and I turned back to the alley. The ringing was definitely coming from there. I rush into the alley and follow the source of the ringing.

I see Sam's purse. It's lying beside a trash bin, rattling the trash bin every time the phone rings. I reach down and grab it, lifting up so I can see it in the light. One of its straps is broken, and there's blood on it. A lot of blood. And then… nothing. I don't remember anything until I'm lying in a bed, staring at the ceiling.

"It wasn't your fault, Freddie," I hear someone tell me. "What happened to Sam wasn't your fault."

* * *

**Author's Box**

* * *

Woah… be honest now, who saw that coming? Not many, I'd bet. I enjoyed writing in Freddie style, but was upset when I had to end it here. In order not to ruin Sam's debut story next chapter, I had to end it a bit short. So, yeah, tell me what you thought. I'm looking for what you thought about the story and the style change for Freddie, but any other comments or requests are accepted and welcomed. Oh, and, just incase you're worried, I won't be killing any main characters.


	3. 03 Beast Mode S

Okay, I think this story will now be finished. This chapter was the real determining chapter; if I couldn't finish this one, then the story would've ended up dying. I would like to thank each and every reviewer. Your effort and appreciation will not be forgotten.

I don't know if any of you have read any of my other stories, but my chapters are usually at least twice the length of these past three chapters (including this one). It upsets me, only being able to do this much at a time, so I've decided to start doing double chapters. I will probably have every chapter from this point on start with one perspective, and finish with another (example: next chapter will open with Carly, and close with Freddie). I will probably add another future clip in the middle, for the second character, but I'm not sure yet. Actually, maybe not, I think I want to make the past move at a faster pace than the future, that way we'll be able to catch up.

* * *

**[Sam]**

* * *

Disgusting. That's how I feel. Well… that's how I always feel, but now a little more than most days. I keep my eyes closed, trying to keep myself from the real world for only a few more seconds, until I realize it's Monday.

"Shit…" I have to go to work today. As my mind fights me on waking up, I notice the smell. Don't know how I didn't notice it when I first woke up, or last night, but the guy next to me reeks of alcohol. And I've lived with my mother. "Shit…" I grumble again, opening my eyes to see that it's not even time to get up yet. The sun's still low… I look over to my digital clock. It's 6. 6 in the fucking morning. "Shit," I say one more time before pushing myself up into a sitting position.

A glance to my right tells me that Frank is still sleeping. I close my eyes, unable to look at him anymore, and scratch my head. Why the hell am I sleeping next to that? I mean, yeah, he's kinda cute in a 'drunken idiot' kind of way, and his brown hair and brown eyes look really nice for someone… well, for someone with the rest of the body he has, but still.

I sigh, look at him one more time, then roll out of bed. My body doesn't want to get up (neither does my mind, for that matter, but sleeping next to 'that' anymore is too depressing), but falling off of the bed onto my hands and knees wakes me up enough to stand.

I stand, take a deep breath, then head into the bathroom. It's not what some would call 'pleasant', but I've actually gotten attached to it in an 'I have nowhere else to go' kind of way. The mirror is crusted up with gross looking something or other, half the toilet seat is broken, the sink looks horrifying, the shower gives about a minute of low pressure hot water, and the entire bathroom is about the size of a medium-sized closet.

I look down to see that I'm only wearing my bra and boxers. I shed them about as fast as my sluggish body would allow me to, and stepped into the shower before turning the water on. I turn the handle so that it's just warmer than cold water. That way I can preserve the hot water for another few minutes. I grab the small bar of soap resting on a ledge on the side of the shower, and I rinse it in the water for a moment before scrubbing myself with it. I start with my left arm, scrubbing vigorously in an attempt to get the alcohol stink off of me.

After finishing the left arm, I move to my right arm. While scrubbing, I notice the scars. No, they weren't scars I got from my mother. Or scars I got from a 'boyfriend'. Or from a bar fight. No… there were three of them: the smallest went along my left hand, the next one was a long line going horizontally along my upper right arm, and the largest was diamond shaped one in my right shoulder.

I scrub a little faster, the memory of that day so long ago making my heart pace pick up a bit.

* * *

**Flash Back**

* * *

Walking down the stairs, I notice Spencer. He's sitting on one of the stools in the kitchen, fiddling with what looks like a glue gun. "Hey Spence."

He looked up to me with a proud smirk on his face. "Oh hey Sam!" He doesn't say anything until he realizes I'm walking towards the door instead of his fridge. "You leaving already?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm just heading out to the Groovy Smoothie. Why?"

He has a strange look on his face after I say that, looking almost like he is trying to remember something. "I don't remember you eating anything since you got here…"

"Yeah. So?" It almost feels like he's accusing me of something, so I put my guard up. It's normally up against everyone but the Shays' and Freddie, but that doesn't mean I won't use it against them.

"So, instead of eating our food, you're going to go out and spend money at the Groovy Smoothie?"

Oh, is that all? Of course that would seem strange. "Yes, I'm going to spend money at the Groovy Smoothie," I tell him, and I feel my lips curl into one of my favorite smirks. "Not my money, though."

"Whose money?" Spencer asks, looking more confused than before. I grab Freddie's wallet from my back pocket, and pull his laminated license from its sleeve. "Freddie's money," he said, not seeming surprised.

"Yeah, I'm buying myself dinner with his wallet," I explained, taking a few steps towards the elevator. Freddie would be getting free soon, and heading down here, so I needed to use the apartment elevator to beat him out of the building.

"Is Carly going with you?" he asked, lifting his glue gun to aim at me.

"No, she said something about having a project to do tonight." I hit the button for the elevator, and the doors open for me.

"But Freddie's going?" he lowers the glue gun to inspect the warning label.

"If he wants to save some of his money he will," I answer, feeling like I was being accused of something again. I step into the elevator, and face Spencer again.

"So, you and Freddie are going to the Groovy Smoothie and he's paying for your dinner?"

"…" I don't say anything, I just stare at him. What's he trying to say? Tha-that I'm…

The elevator door starts to come down. When it does, he waves at me. "Have fun on your date with Freddie, Sam!"

"What! No, it's–" I try to correct him, but the elevator door shuts before I can. If I don't do something, he'll think me and Freddie are… I try hitting the button to open the doors, but just before I can, the elevator starts moving down. Great.

I feel and hear a vibration in my purse. I pull out my phone to see Spencer sent me to a text message.

Carly will probly go wit Freddie 2 c u i'll hold her off, u owe me 1.

SEDDIE FTW!

I feel my face heat up as I read and re-read the message. He really used that word. Those damn internet nerds, they really invented a word for me and… my face heats up even more, and I start gnawing on my lip. One night, when I was sitting at home bored and going through one of the forums for iCarly, I had just happened to stumble upon a website. It was a site for something called "Fanfiction", and it's where fans of the site (and, by extension, me, Carly, and Freddie) could go and make their own stories involving us. I had just happened to find one about me and Freddie going out… it was… very descriptive…

I start fidgeting a bit on top of gnawing on my lip and my burning face, then try distracting myself by switching my attention to the elevator lights. Why are these elevators so slow, I'm only on the 3rd floor. That means there are only two floors left before I hit the lobby. Then I'll have to go by Lewbert. I look up, and see that I'm on the 2nd floor. I'll probably have to move quickly if I want to get there before Freddie catches up. I pull out his wallet from my purse (where I put it when I got my phone), and put his driver's license back into its special sleeve. The elevator stops, and the door opens.

I step into the lobby, and see that Lewbert fell asleep at his desk again. Well, at least I don't have to listen to his mouth.

Before I can leave the building, I hear what sounds like running coming from the stairs. That's not Freddie already, is it? Holy crap, he's fast!

I bolt from the building, ducking into the nearest alleyway, about a block and a half in the Groovy Smoothies' direction.

I peek out around the corner, and see Freddie running towards me. I quickly pull my head back. Apparently he didn't notice me. I look out again to see him running away from me... (unintentionally noticing how his butt looked as he ran). I pull back into the alley, scratching my head as I tried to ignore the image trying to burn itself into my mind.

I start pacing in the alley. Should I really go? I mean… Freddie was running really fast. He wanted to get there as soon as he could… what if he thought we were going on a date like Spencer did? I pull out Freddie's wallet, looking at his picture. I don't want that to happen… I mean… what if he doesn't—

"AHH!" I cry out, a sudden sharp pain shooting through my right arm. I jump into the alley, away from the pain, and turn to face my attacker.

"Alright, little missy, hand over the purse and the wallet, and your free to go," this seedy looking guy says, holding the knife he slashed at me with. He's a tall-ish guy, pale white, skinny, shady clothing, black hair, and a short beard. I look down to my purse: he cut one of the straps. Was he trying to cut it off of me?

"I can give you the purse," I tell him, my voice a bit shaky from the shock of getting cut, "but I'm keeping the wallet." I never keep anything important or money in my purse, just in case a situation like this happens, and under normal circumstances I would've given him it and the wallet (only because he has a knife and already caught me with a surprise hit), but I can't give him Freddie's wallet. He told me once that it was special to him, that it was his father's, and I can't just give that away to some douche who can't work for his money, a douche who picks an 18 year old girl to steal from.

"What do you mean 'I'm keeping the wallet'?" he asks, almost like the words were unfamiliar. "This is a mugging, not a negation!"

I look down to the purse I'm clutching in my right hand. He cut me pretty deep: a lot of blood is flowing down my arm and onto my purse. I can't let him have the wallet… I scan the alley using my peripherals (so he won't notice) for anything I can use. I might've been able to use the trash bin lid to defend myself against his knife, but he's standing next to it. I can't scream: there were barely any people out on the street, and if I yell, he might charge me. That won't end well. I take a quick look behind me. The alley goes a little further back, and then turns to the left.

"Don't try to run. That's a dead end," he tells me. I look back to him, and he's walking towards me. Shit! He didn't give me enough time! I clutch my purse and, with all of my strength, I hurl it at him, hitting him square in the face.

He grunts in pain (I had some fruit, some ribs, and a full bottle of Fizzy Pop in there), and I turn and run for the alley to the left. Even if it's a dead end, there might be something back there I can use.

I turn into the next alley to see that it's not a dead end; it opens out to the street. The only thing in the alley, though, is a guy standing in the middle of it. He's a bit taller than the other guy, and bigger all around. He's wearing a hoodie and gloves, so I can't see much of his skin, but I think he might be white too. I try to run around him, but he catches me in a light but tight choke hold (I can't move, but he's not suffocating me), then turns so I can't see the street anymore. I see the guy with the knife round the corner, rubbing his eye.

"I told you it was a dead end. Now you end up dead. I was going to let you go, but you had to throw your purse at me." At this point, he's standing directly in front of me. He lifts the knife, dragging the blade across my cheek. "Or maybe you'd like to make it up to me?"

Shit… I could hit him right now, or I could get out of this guy's hold if I wanted, but doing either would end up with me getting seriously hurt… I have to wait until one of them drops their guard.

"All this trouble over a wallet: I hope it was worth your life," he says, lowering the knife so it's pressed up against my neck.

That's when I heard my phone ringing. It was Freddie. He's looking for me… If I can't get out of this, I'll never see him again. Not him, not Carly, not Spencer, not my mother… hell, I'll even miss Gibby, that little weirdo. My eyes water a bit, and I look back to the man with the knife.

"Oh? Who's that calling you?" the man asks, smirking and looking back to where the ring tone was coming from. "Hope it's not important," he adds, looking back to me, "'cause… you know… you won't be able to answer it." I close my eyes, trying not to let my weakness show. My body starts to shake a bit, and I feel as though if the guy holding me let go, I wouldn't even be able to stand.

"SAM!" I hear Freddie's voice roar through the small alley way. My eyes shoot open, and I see Freddie at the other end of the alley. "Let her go!"

"Uh-oh, boyfriend to the rescue," the guy with the knife says, turning to face Freddie. "Turn back now, kid. This," he said, pressing the knife against my crotch (making me jump, and causing a single tear to escape my left eye), "isn't worth your life."

"Don't make me tell you again," Freddie said, taking a menacing step forward… well, as menacing a step as Freddie can take. Heh… look at me, I can't even stop insulting the boy when he's saving me.

The man with the knife turns to the one holding me. "Don't let her go, I'll be back in a second." Then he looks down to me. He smiles, then turns back to Freddie. "Hope you at least gave it up for him to be this stupid for you."

'Oh my god, Freddie… just go…' My body has pretty much shut down on me, and I can't use the distraction Freddie gave me. I try to move my arms, but they feel too heavy to accomplish anything. Freddie's gonna get… no, he… I look back up to him, and see something shining on his hands.

I feel my lips curl into a smile despite my situation. Apparently knife guy doesn't notice, because he soon gets a face full of brass knuckles (the ones I keep in my purse). Knife guy gets sent reeling to the floor.

Freddie has an almost proud look on his face as he turns to me. 'What's he doing?'

"Let Sam go!" he shouts at the man holding me in his best heroic voice.

SHIT! I suddenly find my voice. "This isn't a fucking comic book, you idiot! Turn around!"

Sometimes I really do hate my need to insult him. It really does get in the way more than you'd think. It's like if you had a compulsion to throw your food at whoever was nearby. While it could lead to truly hilarious situations, sometimes you'd just wish you could control yourself, even if only one time in your life. This was that one time. If I had told him a second earlier, maybe even half a second, he would still be standing.

"He really hit me with brass knuckles," knife guy says while rubbing his cut cheek, dropping the bloodied brick on Freddie.

My eyes widen as I watch Freddie, watching his hand twitch a few times before he lies still, and I feel my heart pick up considerably. I can feel the adrenaline pumping through me. Literally, I can actually feel the adrenaline coursing through me, through each limb, through each muscle, through each vein. I don't remember feeling this… this strong in a long time.

I let loose a war cry before breaking out of the big guy's choke hold. I grab his arm, and twirl him to the ground. It was just like I had done it, just like I had practiced it a hundred times before, but this time was different. This time he moved way too fast. He hit the ground head first, and I think I dislocated his arm. Oh well.

I look up to the knife guy, and he looks like he can't believe his eyes. He says something, but I can't hear it. I charge him, letting loose another powerful war cry, stronger and louder than the last.

I don't really remember much from that point on, but I remember hitting him in the kidney (I think that was my first attack), head-butting him, and hitting him in the face at least once.

When I came to my senses, or at least was aware of my actions again, I was breathing heavily. I was looking down at knife guy while I held my foot on his chest. His clothes were torn, the skin I could see underneath his clothes had a bit of blood on it, and his face looked like the character who lost in the old Street Fighter 2 games (Author's Note: I always pictured Sam as a fighting game fan, it just fits).

It took me a moment to get enough control over my breath to look around. The other guy was still out, but so was Freddie. I moved to pick Freddie up when a sharp pain went through my right shoulder. I winced, and took a glance down at my shoulder. A knife was sticking out of it. Knife guy's knife.

Without a second thought, I reached up with my left hand to pull it out. The knife was about halfway in, but it came out easily enough. Blood starts coming out of the hole in my shoulder, but I don't really feel anything from it. It must be the adrenaline.

Well… I might as well make use of the adrenaline while I got it. I reach down and grab Freddie, hoisting him up on my left shoulder, then head back to Bushwell. It's only a block away.

I'm fine through the entire walk, but I think it starts wearing off when I make it to the building. The last thing I can remember that day is hitting the button for Carly's apartment.

* * *

**Author's box**

* * *

Okay… woah, hold on a minute… that ending gave me an action high… I just need a minute…

OKAY! How did everyone like Sam's Beast Mode? I, for one, thought it was EPIC! Uhh… oh, and what about my FF dot net reference? I always wondered if any of them would ever discover a site like this. I mean, they got a huge fanbase (on the show), with all kinds of forums and crap, so… i actually think something like what i portrayed with Sam would actually happen (maybe a bit toned down from where i had it).

Sorry about the thugs. I'm not good at writing thug/henchmen characters. The knife guy, to me, felt a little too much like a big time villain (the only real type of villain I can write), and the other guy just didn't say anything. I was trying to put lines in there for him, but everything he had to/could've said just felt wrong/weird.

Oh yeah! This 'writing from three perspectives, and making each one feel unique' crap is hard! I mean, really hard! I have to divide myself into three writing styles when I write, and then I also have to try and keep my natural writing style out of the mix, and I have to repeatedly switch back and forth… sigh… well, I feel it's making me a better writer, like it's helping me see even more dimensions of the characters when I write, so it's cool. Also, one reviewer last chapter said that Freddie's style and Carly's style were too similar, and I agree. I'm just a bit mad he/she doesn't have an account so I could talk with them a bit more about it. I'm doing this because I like writing, but I'm also trying to be the best I can before I start writing real books and stories. If anyone sees anyway I can be better, or anything you noticed I did awkward/wrong/odd (however small), could you please tell me? In the end, if you think about it, it will only ever help you readers get the best reading experience you can get.

And before anyone asks why Sam didn't get her brass knuckles in the first place, it was because she would've had to open her purse, dig through her food items for them, then equip them and get ready to fight before knife guy realized she was up to something and charged her. He was only like 8-10 feet away.


	4. 04 Salvation? C

Sup. Well, this chapter took a minute to come out. And, I am sorry to inform you that it is not a double chapter. It's been... not stable where I live for the past few weeks, but here's the new chapter.

I apologize to all Freddie fans. I messed up. Through a conversation with a trusted reader, I realized that his comment upon leaving Carly's house was off-base. I had him say it because I thought it would be funny, but I was wrong. It was the first thing I thought of so I wrote it, but it was rather un-freddie like, and pretty offensive to his fans. With the amount of time he spends with Carly (a girl) and Sam (also a girl), he should have been able to tell that it wasn't 'That time of the month' and it was something more important. I have changed it to something equally, if not more funny (if you found the original joke distasteful, than it's leaps and bounds funnier). If you were offended by his line but kept reading, or if you are just curious what I changed it to, go check it.

**Recap: **Carly discovers she has feelings for Freddie. Meanwhile, Sam is being attacked in an alley! Freddie comes to her rescue (even though he got knocked out), and Sam carries Freddie home with a knife wound.

* * *

**{Carly}**

* * *

When I had left to get dressed, Freddie started making my breakfast. He made me bacon and scrambled eggs... he doesn't normally make food like that (which I'm a bit upset with; he's like a 5-star chef with everything he makes), it's only when he's thinking about his mother or _Her_.

It was a great breakfast, but it was missing something. One look would tell anyone what it was, though. It was Freddie. Freddie was just... absent. I don't know what exactly happened, maybe he had a dream about _Her_, maybe something happened yesterday, or maybe it was just a rough day, but I don't remember him being this... empty... last year. These things are supposed to get better with time, right? That's what they always say, Y'know, in movies and stuff, they always say that, but Freddie seems to be getting worse as time passes.

I glance over to him. He's sitting quietly in the seat next to me, as he has been for the past hour of the ride to Seattle, looking out the window. He's sitting perfectly still as he watches the passing world. I notice something gleaming in his hand. I look back to the road, then to his hand again. It's the small bracelet he got from _Her_. It has red and blue beads placed in a pattern (Red Blue Red Blue Red Red Blue Blue Red Blue Red Blue), but with a small solid purple heart hanging from the end. I feel my hands tighten slightly on the steering wheel before I turn back to the road.

"We're almost there," I say, trying to start up a conversation for the first time since we got in the car.

"Yeah..." he sighed, keeping his eyes on the passing scenery and tightening his hand around the bracelet.

"Spencer was telling me about a new sculpture he was making. Something about it being something really special."

"We're about a half hour away, right?" he asked, looking at the time on his phone.

"Yeah, about a half hour..."

And that was the end of our conversation. He basically, in his special Freddie way of doing things, told me to stop talking. It sounds pretty rude, but it's more like he really doesn't want to talk and he's asking me not to force him to. In normal cases I probably would have continued the conversation, but he gets a 'rude/jerk pass' today. Only today, though, tomorrow is going back to normal. I mean, it's alright. Things are always special, always different, and they always make people act as such on anniversaries.

* * *

**Flash Back**

* * *

I sat on the couch in the living room, staring at the TV. Something was playing, but I wasn't really watching it; it was just on for some background noise (having a TV on always helps when I need to think).

"_Your not really in love with Freddie."_

I take a deep breath, turning my attention to the pillow I had in a bear hug. No... Spencer isn't right. Of course not, I mean he's... he's Spencer! Childish, immature, irresponsible, hilarious, but not insightful, even with his past experience. Of course. Nothing Spencer has ever done has shown me that ANY of what he says in serious situations can be valuable. I remember needing his advice with Sam one day, and he told me to close my eyes then ran away... that was pretty jerky of him.

"_What your feeling now is just a... a childish imitation of what you think you're feeling."_

He's a childish imitation of an adult, that's what he is! I start nibbling on my bottom lip. So what if some of the things he said made a little bit of sense... that doesn't mean he's right. I know what I'm feeling! This isn't some 'childish imitation', this is... the real thing...

"_Normally I wouldn't say anything, I would just let you guys learn about everything on your own, but if I didn't say anything Freddie would end up getting seriously hurt down the road."_

"There is no way I would hurt Freddie..." it was just impossible. I could never, and would never hurt Freddie! Yeah... Spencer's the one who's confused! He doesn't know what he's talking about! I don't know why I even listened to him! I mean, with all the crappy relationships he's had, all the ones that ended because of him doing something stupid, who's he to be giving relationship advice? No one, that's who!

* * *

"Alright… I think I might be in love with Freddie."

Spencer stops moving. After a couple of seconds, he turns to face me, milk dribbling down the center of his chin. "Really...?" he asks through a mouthful of fiber-nuts.

"Yeah, really..." I answer, looking at him with confusion. "What's with that reaction?"

He quickly wiped the milk off his chin and swallowed his cereal, attempting to regain his composure I think. "And, uh..." he started, sounding almost as confused as I was, "why do you think that?"

"What do you mean why?"

"Why do you think you're in love?"

"Um... I'm not... how do you want me to answer that?"

Spencer sighs and scratches his head. "Like... what about Freddie makes you like him in that way." Spencer looked at me intently, looking way too serious as he (I'm guessing here) tried to read my body language.

"Oh. Well he... he's just..." I feel myself smile as I talk, and I feel my face heat up a bit. "He's gotten really cute lately, and... I just, I feel so... I feel like my heart speeds up when we're alone," I admitted, remembering how I felt just a few minutes ago.

"Is that all?" Spencer presses, apparently looking for a different answer.

"What? Um... well, it bothers me when I see how he acts around other girls," I add, remembering not only his 'fighting' with Sam, but how he actually seems to respond to the seemingly constant flirting of other girls now. Spencer nods, rubbing his chin a bit in a thinking manner. "It feels almost like it did when I was dating Jason (AN: Made up BF), like I'm a girlfriend getting upset when he's flirting with other girls."

Spencer nods to himself. "Was there anything else?" he asks, sounding like he wants to finish this part of the conversation so he can move on.

"Well... it hurts when he ignores me..." I said, my heart hurting again as I thought of it. "But besides that and the normal in-love stuff that I can't really describe, not really."

"And how long ago did you start feeling all of that?" he says, shifting so he was sitting on the edge of his seat.

"Um... I don't know... maybe... a month or two ago?"

"Okay... Carly, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but your not really in love with Freddie."

"What?" I ask, feeling my eyebrows raise in disbelief. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you're confusing what your feeling right now for love."

"And... and what am I feeling then?"

"Jealousy, I think. You said you started liking Freddie like that a few months ago, right?" I nod. "That's around the time that Sam and Freddie started getting kinda flirty with each other."

I feel my eyebrows draw together. "Well, what does that have to do with anything?"

"You know how sometimes when a kid has a toy she's never really wanted, but when someone else starts playing with it she gets all crazy trying to get it back? That's what you're doing right now. Freddie's always been there, waiting patiently for you, and only now that someone else is playing with him do you want to have him. What your feeling now is just a... a childish imitation of what you think you're feeling."

I couldn't do anything but stare at him with my mouth hanging open for a few seconds. "Are... are you trying to tell me that I don't love Freddie?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying," he said, shaking his head slightly. "I know that you do love him, but what you're feeling at the moment isn't the kind of love you should start a relationship with. Normally I wouldn't say anything, I would just let you guys learn about everything on your own, but if I didn't say anything Freddie would end up getting seriously hurt down the road."

"And what makes you an expert on relationships all of the sudden!" I say, my voice raising unintentionally.

"Because... I went through this same situation when I was younger. I was you and... and I had my own 'Freddie'."

"You did...?" I ask, not remembering any mention of such a girl.

"Yeah, but that's not important to you right now. If you care for Freddie at all, you won't try to start anything with the emotion you're feeling right now. I know you're capable of liking him the right way, and maybe this whole situation just stirred up feelings you didn't know you had, but try to make sure you genuinely like him for him, not just because he's flirting with someone else and ignores you sometimes."

"It's... it's not just that..." I say, feeling my voice become slightly unstable.

"I love you, kiddo," he said before hugging me. "Hearing this might not feel good now, but if I had let you go on like that... you would have ended up hating yourself..."

"So..." I start after he pulls back from the hug, "are you going to, you know... keep talking like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're some ancient Buddhist monk who attained enlightenment."

Spencer chuckles before ruffling my hair. "I wish. It'd be cool if you could turn to me with more of your problems that I could actually help with, but I was only able to help because I've done this before."

"Oh, okay."

It's quiet for a moment before Spencer speaks up. "Well, you probably have a lot to think about, so I'll go out for a bit. Maybe go see a movie or something."

He grabbed a jacket and headed for the door, but before he left he said one last thing. "I know things might be pretty confusing at the moment, but I promise it'll make sense if you give it a bit of time."

* * *

I crushed my pillow a little tighter, sinking down a bit into the couch. _'Okay, let's say he's right... I still want to be with Freddie. If I can't be together with him as I feel now, then what do I have to do?'_

I thought about it for maybe a minute, with no solution of any kind, before I heard our elevator. Had Spencer come back? Did he forget something?

I turned to the elevator to see what Spencer wanted, but stopped dead at what will be the most horrifying and memorable moment in my life. I saw Freddie and Sam in the elevator. Freddie was lying on the floor, he looked like he might've been unconscious, with some blood on his clothes. Sam was on her feet, wobbling slightly, with the entire left side of her clothes dyed in blood. Sam had a blank look in her eyes as she took a half step forward and muttered something.

"SAM!" I shouted after finally finding my voice before I jumped off of the couch and rushed to help them.

When I got there, I heard Sam mutter it again, but I actually heard what it was this time. "Help..." she murmured, sounding like she was sleep-talking.

"Sam... oh my god, what happened!" I cried, my mind drawing a complete blank from the scene before me.

"Help..." she murmured again before collapsing forward. I was just barely able to catch her before she hit the ground.

I pulled my hand up and saw it completely covered in blood. "Oh my god, Oh my god, what do I do?" I said, panic pushing me past the point of common sense.

She grabbed onto my arm, squeezing it tighter than anyone should be able to in her condition. "Help..." she murmured again, louder than the first few times, "...Freddie..."

Freddie? I looked over to him, and saw his hand firmly grasped in her left hand. Freddie looked like he was in pretty good condition compared to Sam, especially since it looked like all the blood on him was _from_ Sam.

"Freddie..." she whispered before she went completely limp in my arms. I look back to Freddie, and suddenly my brain starts working again.

"Mrs. Benson!" I shout the instant my brain thinks it. I lay Sam down on the floor, then get up and bolt out the door.

After a continuous pounding on her door for about 8 seconds, the door opens.

"Carly, what are—" she starts, but I interrupt her.

"Mrs. Benson! Sam, she... in the elevator with Freddie! So much blood!" I shouted at her. In hindsight, I probably only needed the words 'Freddie' and 'blood' to get her to come with me. She reached inside her apartment and pulled out a giant medical kit before following me into my apartment.

We came in sight of Sam and Freddie. She gasped, then turned to me. "Did you call an ambulance?" I felt so stupid right then. Absolutely, and totally like a complete idiot. It's the one thing you're always supposed to do in these situations, and you never really worry about it because you know you will if the situation ever happens, but I... it was just so... I just completely blanked out.

I wasted no (more) time in calling for an ambulance. As I told the police person what happened over the phone, I started thinking it wasn't so bad I got Mrs. Benson first. If I hadn't, I might've forgotten about her. I mean, she is a nurse. She went to nursing school and everything. She'll probably be able to help Sam and Freddie before the ambulance can get them to a hospital.

I would've thought Mrs. Benson would ignore Sam until she checked to see that Freddie was okay, but she checked Sam first.

I was going to stay with her, but when I saw Sam's shoulder, when I could see inside her shoulder, I felt myself pale. After almost throwing up I decided it was best if I waited in the kitchen until she was done.

I waited in the kitchen, drinking some water and trying to erase the horrifying images of the sight in my elevator, until I heard Mrs. Benson call me.

"Carly, what happened here?" she asked, her voice a cross between her 'nursing voice' and her 'psycho mother voice'.

"I don't know," I answered with my back to her, feeling much better than I had a few minutes ago but still not great. "They just came up the elevator like this."

"Hmm... well, there's nothing more I can do here. We just have to wait for an ambulance to get here."

"Mrs... Mrs. Benson, how are they?" I ask hesitantly, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Well, Sam actually doesn't look too bad. Whatever she was stabbed with didn't hit an artery. She should be perfectly fine after she gets some blood and stitches. But Freddie..."

I feel brave enough to turn back around, facing my two injured friends and Mrs. Benson. I notice that Sam looks a bit better. She has a white towel (that now had some red) wrapped around her right shoulder, and a smaller one around her left hand. "What about Freddie?" I ask, feeling my stomach tie itself in knots.

"Well... his actual wound doesn't look too bad. I don't even think his skull was fractured. But I wasn't there, and the only other person who was there is unconscious too. Freddie could either wake up in a few minutes, or a few months... "

"M-Months?" I manage after choking on my water.

"If he even does wake up, Yes. Head injuries are tricky," she said, sounding way too detached from the situation as she knelt beside Freddie, placing her hand on his back as she made soothing circular motions with her hand.

It took an ambulance about 20 minutes to get here, bring Sam and Freddie to the truck (with me and Mrs. Benson tagging along), then arrive at the hospital. In that time I hadn't seen Mrs. Benson react in anyway to Freddie's injury. She pretty much avoided it the entire time. I'm glad for that, though, because even though it was something small, it kept my mind from concentrating on Sam and Freddie. And through intense observation, I think I know what happened. Mrs. Benson had shut down and gone into full 'nurse mode'. She's trying to avoid thinking about and acknowledging that Freddie got hurt, I think. But, that's what people do. When something painful happens, they'll do that, right? Try to avoid whats hurting them, trying to pretend it doesn't exist, trying to... lie to themselves...

A sudden epiphany hits me with that thought. Spencer was right. I'm not feeling love for Freddie... I pull out my phone. Flipping it open, I see the picture me Freddie and Sam took of ourselves a short time before I started feeling this false love. Freddie doesn't look anywhere near as happy as he's been in the past few weeks. I look to Sam, staring into the eyes that stole Freddie's for a moment before closing my eyes. When I open them again I notice several wet spots on the screen.

"Freddie..." I say, my voice sounding strange and unfamiliar. I wiped the remaining tears from my eyes. He really didn't deserve to be in the hospital. And it's my fault! If I had noticed him before, or if I even acknowledged him as he deserved to be, he wouldn't be sitting in a hospital right now. Sam would never have been as aggressive with her tri-weekly assault on Freddie, and they would never have gone out for smoothies...

I looked to Freddie's tear-blurred picture one more time, looking at the smile on his face, dull compared to the more recent ones. I promise myself that it would be me. I will be the one to brighten his life. I will be the one to bring that smile to his face. I will be the one who loves him.

Narator (me): And so, after her vow, she closed the phone, neglecting to notice that Sam's smile had also brightened in the past few weeks.

**Author's Box**

* * *

chapter end. I put the narrator in there because I wanted to point what he (I) said out, but couldn't have Carly herself think or say it. So basically, she's going to engage this whole situation without realizing Sam's life is brighter, happier, and warmer than it was without Freddie, even if she won't admit it. Oh yeah. And I thought the last chapter was awesome. Did you guys not think so? It didn't get as many reviews as the last one, so I'm just wondering if I messed up, or was it just by chance I got less, or what. Oh. And I forgot to tell you I named that last chapter (Beast Mode) after an awesome song by B.O.B., titled Beast Mode.

I wanted to write a double chapter, but I need the rejuvenating power of reviews to boost me up. My 'feel-good-o-meter' is all tapped out, and I need a fresh batch of reviews to recover. Please... my blood type is rEvIEw positive. I need a transfusion. Stat.


	5. 05 Scrambled S

Hello, hello, hello! Hello, hello. Once again, the Almighty Zidiane graces the fanfiction world with his presence! Sorry for the bit of the delay, but I had some stuff that needed to not be happening before I could start writing again. You know how it is. Life. Anyway, I have one last thing I have to say. Does anyone else find it weird that I write a first person story using basically nothing but past-tense words? I find it really weird, and it bugs me, but I can't bring myself to change it. Sentences just don't sound right to me otherwise.

* * *

**[Sam]

* * *

**

My shower didn't take too long, obviously. After I had finished, I dried myself and got dressed. Then I grabbed my keys, my purse, and my buss pass, and left the apartment. Well, not before kicking Frank out. It won't do to just let people you barely know sleeping in your house, would it? No, of course not. After he stumbled away, too confused and hungover to really put up a fight, I headed to my bus stop.

That's where I'm sitting now. After almost an hour wait at the bus stop, I'm on the bus. With the rest of the trash who first thing in the morning. Most of them are sleeping. Most of them are homeless, enjoying the safe, heated bus. And all of us are damaged, in one way or another.

Society tends to look down on the homeless, they dismiss them, often refusing to help. People have an idea that giving money to homeless people is not a good thing to do because they will just buy alcohol with it. They are absolutely right, seeing as there are enough places to get free food at, but have they ever thought beyond that? Each of these people... they all struggle to make it through everyday, not only with the living conditions but with the mental horrors each has went through. Being homeless with no help is probably one of the hardest thing to go through in America, and drinking is one of the only things that help make life a little bit easier. Among others is heroine, and cocaine. Alcohol is cheap: everything else requires a bit of your soul to get...

Some of us were normal people once, too. A father who lost his family and his house in a fire. A mother who had everything stolen from her by the man she loved. A son who took the only chance to escape with his sister from his pedophile step-father and uncaring mother. A daughter who could no longer take the stress of living with a mother who only cared when she was sober, and having her best friend... no, her sister falling in love with the one man she thought she could actually have a happy ending with. Well... it looks like the daughter had a little less reason to be in her current position than the others. Is that why the daughter feels so disgusted with herself? Yes... most certainly. How could I, The Great Sam Puckett, have been reduced to nothing more than trash sitting at the back of the bus by a man? And by _Him_, no less, the weak little nerd who could barely defend himself?

"Hello!" shrieked a high pitched, unknown voice. I winced. Whoever it was hit that annoying note, the one that makes you want to punch whoever made it in the throat so hard that they wouldn't be able to make that noise ever again.

I look up to see an older woman staring at me, entirely too happy for seven in the morning. "he-Hello..." I whispered, looking back out the window. If I looked at her too long, she would interpret it as an invitation to talk.

"My name's Marissa," she announced, getting comfortable in the seat in front of me, "But you can call me Mary!"

"Well, Mary," I said, trying my hardest not to yell at her. It's not her fault she has problems. "I don't really want to talk right now, so could you talk to someone else?"

"No." she answered simply, still smiling at me.

"Please Mary, I really don't want to talk."

"Yeah, maybe, but you looked really sad, thinking about whatever it was you were thinking about, so I decided to help you take your mind off of it!"

Dear God, if you exist, you will give me the strength not to strangle this woman. "Thank you," I say, as polite as I'm able through clenched teeth, "But I'm fine. I don't need anyone to talk to, I just need to be by myself for a little bit."

The woman frowns. "Are you sure? You really look like you need someone to talk to..."

I sigh, and look back out the window again. "Yeah... right now, I just need some quiet."

"Alright, well... what's your name? That way, if you want to talk later, we won't be strangers!"

"... you can call me Sam."

"Hi Sam! It was nice to meet you, I'll talk to you later!" After her final screech, she left me in peace. I rubbed the sides of my head. She really gave me a headache... Oh yeah!

I reach into my purse, and pull out a small pill bottle. It rattles, only one pill left. I have to go see Dr. Nidias again to get a new prescription today. I open the bottle, take one out, and swallow it. I don't need water like everyone else seems to, so it's no problem. I close the bottle and put it back into my purse.

… Marissa, huh? _His_ mother's name was Marissa too, wasn't it? She wasn't as bad as I thought she was. She was actually a really nice person, just a little crazy when it came to her son...

* * *

**Flash Back**

* * *

My eyes open painfully. The bright lights above me hurt. I'm dizzy... where am I? My arm hurts, and it itches... I move my left hand to scratch, and notice two things; a bandage, wrapped around my left hand, and a hospital bracelet on my wrist. The hospital? Why am I...?

"Sam! You're awake!" I hear, Carly I think, shout before I feel her pounce onto the bed. She wraps herself around me, giving me a painful hug. She's rambling on about something, saying something about an elevator and blood and how she was scared. She's hurting my right arm, but it's nothing I can't ignore. I pull my right arm free and hug her patting her head while rubbing her back. "I'm fine, I'm fine," I repeated in a soothing voice.

After probably a minute or two of hugging and crying (on her part, not mine), she calmed herself. She let go, snuffled a few times, and rubbed her red eyes dry. "Y-you're really okay?" she asked, a bit shakily.

I feel... not good. It's my fault she was upset, right? Of course it was. It was because I got hurt in that stupid alley. "f-Freddie..." I hear myself say, my voice sounding strained, "what happened to him?"

A look of pain flashes across her face. Her eyes break from mine, sinking to the floor as she nervously grabs her right elbow with her left hand. "The doctor..." she mumbled, stopping short before finishing her sentence.

"...The doctor?" I ask. My hands clench the white sheets underneath me, and I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. "What about the doctor?" I ask after a second of dreadful silence, unintentionally raising my voice a bit.

"She... She said they don't know when he'll wake up..." Carly whispered. Her eyes were on the floor, never meeting mine. I've... I've only seen her look this depressed when we were kids... and this is my fault. It was all my fault. I should have been stronger...

"Where is he?" I ask. Pushing my self from a resting position to a sitting position, then to a standing position, I ask again. "Where's Freddie?"

"Oh, h-he's right down the hall," Carly explains, rubbing the last traces of tears from her eyes, "But don't strain yourself! The doctor said your stitches are still fragile!"

"Stitches?" I ask, looking down to my bandaged hand.

"In your shoulder, too..." Carly said, pointing to the itchy spot on my arm. It was quiet for a moment as I stared at my stitches. "What... happened to you guys?" Carly asks, standing beside me to hold me still. Only then did I notice I was wobbling.

"We... I'll tell you in Freddie's room," I said, taking a weak step toward the door, then another, Carly holding me up as I go. Well, she's not so much helping me walk as she is making sure I don't fall.

I want to tell her about what happened in the alley, I need to talk with her about it, but... I don't know, it's just like... I have to make sure Freddie is fine first before I can talk about it. Is that wrong? No... no, it's just that he's my responsibility now. Mine... he's mine...

"... Sam!" I hear Carly shout, shaking my shoulders. I blink a few times, looking around. We're in the hallway, standing in front of a door. "We're here..." she says, pushing the door open slowly. Inside it looked just like my room. The standard hospital room. But it was Freddie's room. Freddie was here, lying motionless in a bed, hooked up to some beeping machine.

I stumble through the doorway, finding my way to one of the bedside chairs. Freddie doesn't react. He's not moving, but... he looks like he's about to smile. Like he's about to smile, and start teasing me for my weakness... 'What's the matter, Puckett? Bet you've seen better days, huh? And what's with that face? Where'd this weak little girl come from?'

"Sam..." Carly calls, and I realize I'm crying. I wipe at the two warm streams on my cheeks, and I look up to Carly through blurred vision. "Are you sure you're okay? You don't have to push yourself... you've already done enough for Freddie."

"Enough...?" I ask, feeling anger creep into my voice. I turn back to his bed, looking at his stupid face. "He wouldn't even BE in here if it wasn't for me, Carly!"

"W-What are you... talking about...?" Carly asks, her voice soft and confused.

I explain it to her. How it was my fault he was in that alley. How if it wasn't for me freezing up, Freddie would have never gotten a scratch, let alone have been put into a coma! My tears dry up before the end of the story, and the only evidence they were ever there is the wet spot on my sleeve.

"Sam, you aren't really blaming yourself for getting mugged, are you?" Carly asks, obviously unable to believe that idea.

"No, but I should have been able to handle that whole thing before it even became a situation!"

"Sam, we talked about this before," Carly whispers, looking down and holding her elbow again. "You can't expect yourself to be invincible... if you keep putting that pressure on yourself—"

"I KNOW CARLY!" I shout. I didn't mean to raise my voice, and I didn't mean to cut her off, but... "I know..." I whisper, hugging myself as I haunch over a bit.

"... Sam... have you been taking your medicine?"

I turn away from her, looking down at my medical bracelet.

"Sam? You HAVE been taking them, right?"

"Well..." I mutter, distracting myself by twisting the bracelet with my uninjured hand, "You see, what had happened was..."

"SAM! You stopped taking them!" she said as she marched towards me.

"I-I didn't need them anymore!"

"You didn't need... how do you not need them anymore? It isn't something you just stop having!"

"Y-yeah, but I've stopped having the nightmares! And things don't feel like they used to, I feel safe now..."

"What do you mean by safe? What's different from a few weeks ago?"

I sigh, looking to Freddie's bed, to his _stupid_ face. He still hasn't smiled. "I don't know, but I haven't been taking them for nine or ten days, and everything is fine."

"... where's your pill bottle?"

"I... threw them away..."

"SAM!"

"What! I don't need them anymore!"

Carly sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Alright, hold on..." she said as she picked up her purse. She dug through it until she found something. She pulled it out two cases. Medicine cases. They had seven little containers, each with two letters for each day of the week (Su Mo Tu We Th Fr Sa). "Here, take one."

"What are those?"

"Your medicine."

"Ma-my what?"

"I thought you might try to throw your medicine one day, so I have about a months worth of your medicine stashed away. Here's two weeks worth, they should last until I schedule another appointment for you with Dr. Zane."

"But Carly, I told you I don't need them anymore! Everything's been fine since I've stopped taking them!"

"Sam, look at where we are! Look around you!" She gestures to Freddie. "You didn't just freeze up in the alley, it was because you stopped taking these."

"I ALREADY KNOW IT WAS MY FAULT, CARLY!" I scream at her. I'm trying not to get angry, but everything just feels... wrong. I would never even think about yelling her, but now I can barely keep from knocking her over and running away. I sink into the chair, hugging myself and looking away from her and Freddie's judgmental eyes.

"Sam..." she's scared. Of me. She should be, I'll probably leave her in a hospital too... then I'll finish myself off... "Sam, do you remember how you got to my apartment?"

"... no... I don't remember anything after the alley..." I don't. I can barely remember what happened at the end, let alone how we got to the plaza.

"You carried Freddie back. You carried him home after getting stabbed. You brought him home, and the first thing you said was 'Help Freddie'. After loosing more than 3 and a half pints of blood carrying him home, you still had enough strength to make sure I knew he needed help. And Freddie was willing to go up against two scary looking thugs in order to rescue you. Sam, he can't even initiate a staring contest with _Gibby_."

"... so what?"

"Sam, he cares about you. And I know you care about him. Please don't make him wake up and find out you had... done something to yourself..."

"..." …

"Sam?"

I stand up. I take one of the medicine cases from her before heading out of the room. She's right, but... how did she know what I was thinking? Was it that obvious?

I walk out of the hospital room, and come face to face with Mrs. Benson.

"Samantha..." she started, looking down to me with a neutral expression, "I don't approve of you dragging my son into dangerous situations." She stopped for a moment, then hugged me. "But I'll forgive you. Thank you for bringing him back to me. I know in your situation it must have been..." she stopped again, and sighed. "Thank you." she squeezed me tightly before letting me go and heading into Freddie's hospital room.

I turn around and head back to my hospital bed. I need some time to think.

* * *

**Extra Content

* * *

**

**+_+ Spencer +_+**

* * *

Wow, what a day! This has been one of the weirdest days of my life (since October 07, 2009)! First I wake up singing Spanish tunes with a stuffed monkey wearing lady clothes (some special "Wake up Spencer", I think... I hope), then my spoon hat magically transforms into a fork hat, then I find out Carly is going through some fake love sequence thing with Freddie, THEN I find out Freddie and Sam got hurt and they're in the hospital. So here I am. At the apartment, trying to get my wallet and my car keys. But now there's this girl standing in front of our door.

"Uh... hello? Young lady, did you need something?"

She turns to look at me. She seems very familiar. I don't think I've dated her though, I have a rule about dating girls as young as my little sister.

"Oh, hey Spencer! I haven't seen you for years! Is Carly home?"

Okay, now I'm kinda getting the feeling I really should know who this is.

"Carly? How do you know Carly?"

She scoffs, putting her hands on her hips in a very arrogant way. "Well, duh, I am her best friend, the one and only Missy Robinson!"

* * *

**Author's Box

* * *

**

wow... that whole thing turned out better than I expected. Way better. It's like, my expectations were over here, but it came out over there. Well... I think so. It's just so hard to tell when I'm all depressed and stuff. Anyway, the reviews last time were pretty weak. It's fine if you keep reviewing at that level, but I just want you to know this: reviews make me feel good. The gooder I feel, the stronger and faster the next chapter comes out. When I have to run on my own feel good energy (which is next to nothing), I can get like a paragraph or two done every week. That's not too productive. But, yeah, you don't have to leave reviews, but the more that get left (with strong feelings behind them), the more feel good juice in my tank, the better and more efficient I can be at what I do best (writing).


	6. 06 Awakening C

Alright. We got a few people who don't like Carly in the house, and a few people that like the fact I have portrayed her in a human way. I want all of you to know that I do not hate Carly, and the following Future Piece is completely justified (with information obtained later on). She may say a few things that some might take as her being a bitch, but believe me, the author of the story, that is not the case. She, like Freddie (and Sam), has been hurt. And this chapter has the first anything that reflects some of that.

Also, let me set up a bit of a time line. everything happens on the day Sam gets mugged. then, maybe a half-hour after Sam makes it to Carly's apartment (when she's at the hospital already), Spencer meets Missy. a few days pass, and Sam wakes up. It'll all make sense when you read, but I just wanted to make sure you understood the basic time line.

One final thing: thank you for the reviews! I got a decent amount of reviews, and I enjoyed reading each and every one of them. I could have gotten this done faster with this level of reviews, but they didn't show up for a while and I thought no one wanted to respond for a minute, but I was wrong. Anyway, keep it up! I'm sure I'll be able to finish the next chapter in half the time next time (with the proper amount of reviews). The fastest I've ever done a chapter was in 3 days, and that chapter was almost three times the size of this one.

* * *

**{Carly}**

* * *

Our trip to Spencer's apartment (still the same one he had since I moved in with him) felt so much longer with Freddie not speaking. It felt really awkward. It felt like it did back before... before... well, that's all in the past. I need to focus on keeping him happy. That's all I'm able to do for him, but it seems like it's not working anymore. The little things I do for him are working less and less, and more of his smiles seem faked. He's really hurting, almost all of the time now, and I'm starting to get worried.

He refuses to go to a doctor, but maybe that's because they remind him of _Her_... the first time he ever went to that kind of doctor was with _Her_. The whole thing, the waiting room, the secretary-like people, the doctors, the prescriptions, the whole experience is something that just brings up unwanted feelings. For me, too... well, maybe if I start seeing a doctor, a psychiatrist, it might make Freddie more willing to go through it, what he needs to get out of this rotten place he's in.

It really is a horrible place to be. I know why he's like this though, I really understand. I mean, how would you feel if half of the people you loved were suddenly gone? And it's more than just _Her,_ it's...

"Hello! Earth to Carly, you there?" I look up to see Spencer, waving a stuffed monkey in my face.

"O-Oh? Oh, sorry, I spaced out for a second there."

"Yeah, no duh! Anyway, I was asking if you wanted to see my super secret new sculpture!" He looked very energetic, dashing backwards towards a giant tarp that was covering half the apartment. I stood up from the couch and took a couple steps toward the cloth.

"Sure, pull that bad boy down!" I try to sound energetic, for Spencer's sake. It's a pretty believable act; I pull it off good enough that it could make... _Her..._ proud.

"Alright... BOOM!" he shouts, tearing down the tarp to reveal his latest... art piece.

"... uh... What is it?" I ask, taking a cautious step toward the giant brown, pink, and black... creation.

"It's a Pig! Made out of monkey parts!" he says, holding up his stuffed monkey.

"..." I can't actually bring myself to comment on.. it.

"It's garbage, isn't it."

"No, no, garbage is... such a strong word." It's not very good. I mean, the concept seems pretty neat but the way he did it was just... not very good. Spencer sighs, then starts putting the tarp back up. He used to be a wonderful artist, but I think losing me and _Her, _who he considered another little sister, crushed whatever it was in Spencer that made him an artist.

After he finishes with the tarp, he stumbles towards the couch. "Whatever..." I hear him grumble before he falls into the couch from the back, and his feet end up sticking in the air as his face hovers just above the floor.

"Well, how've you been doing? You know, besides the, uh... monkey-pig." I ask while rubbing his back.

"Fine, I guess... and you?"

"I'm pretty good, but Freddie still hasn't gotten back to normal. I know it's supposed to take some time, but I'm starting to get worried."

Spencer rolled over (while still upside down), then pulled himself into a ball type form before spinning so he was sitting in the couch like a normal person. "What kinda worried?"

"Like, seriously worried. I want him to get better, I want us to be happy again, but I have no idea how to actually make him happy..."

"... Maybe... getting Sam back would help?"

"No," I said, standing up and walking into the kitchen.

"Carly... you have to at least consider that she could—"

"I said no, Spencer!" I shout at him, almost slamming my fist into the table in anger. I take a deep breath and pull my fist back to my side

He was quiet. I didn't look back at him, but I could tell he was staring at me.

"She's not welcome anywhere near _me_. She's not welcome anywhere near _Freddie_. It's as simple as that."

Spencer sighs, and I hear the couch shift. "... Where did Freddie go?"

"Oh... he went to see Missy."

"Cool." Spencer seems upset. I don't like talking with him about _Her_. He always ends up looking like I killed his goldfish. "Hey, do you want to see the painting Missy made?"

"Sure, lets see it." Missy... after everything went down, she decided to stay in Seattle even after I left. I don't know why she did, I thought she would follow us. It's probably for the best, though. I think Spencer uses her as a substitute for me and she-who-will-not-be-named. She's an aspiring artist, too, and she's sort of Spencer's disciple. I was actually really surprised when I found out she liked to paint and draw... now that I think about it, she kind of showed up in our life out of no-where, too. Both times she came back (AN: the once in the show, and the once in this story).

* * *

**Flash Back

* * *

**

Sam had left without a sound. I really hope she doesn't do anything. I mean, she took the medicine, so she should be fine, but I can't help but worry... I'm as close to her as I am to Spencer, closer to her than I am to my own father. She's my sister. I'm not sure what I would do if both my sister and my... my Freddie never woke up.

I look down to Freddie laying on the bed. He looks so sad... I sit down next to him and hold his hand. His hand just rests lifelessly in my grip.

"Freddie... I'm sorry about Sam. She was a little loud, I know, but it's alright. She's going to be taking her medicine. She'll be here when you wake up, ready to mess with you again, so that's a plus!" My sad little joke doesn't do anything. I sigh.

"Freddie, there's something I need to tell you... I think i'm—"

"You aren't going to kiss him again are you?" the unknown and unexpected voice makes my skin leap out in surprise. "Last time I walked in on you and my son in a hospital bed you had your prissy little lips all over him!"

"M-M-Mrs. Benson? N-no I wasn't going to kiss him!" I explain, still shaky from her sudden interruption of my conversation with Freddie. "And that was in his bed, not a hospital bed!"

"His bed is a hospital bed." Really? That's... a little weird. She took another few steps towards me before smiling. "I'm just messing with you."

"Oh! Because, honestly, I had no idea how to even approach the idea of Freddie having a hospital bed for a bed!"

"Oh no, he does have a hospital bed. I was kidding about the kissing part."

"W-what?"

"Go ahead and kiss him already! If that's all it takes to wake up our little sleeping beauty then go right ahead!"

Okay... I'm starting to feel awkward. "Mrs. Benson, I wasn't trying to kiss him, really!"

"I know, calm down already." She's acting like a totally different person... what's happening? I'm not sure if she could tell what I was thinking, but she answered my unspoken question. "Sorry Carly, didn't mean to weird you out. I was just, you know, trying to lighten up the room a little. After you and Sam's little episode, everything felt so tense. We don't want him waking up to see everyone all tense, do we?"

"Mrs. Benson... why are you so relaxed about this? Freddie's in a coma; you understand that, right?"

"Of course I do, but he's going to be waking up soon."

"W-what...? That's what the doctor said?"

"No, I haven't talked to any of them yet."

"Then how do you know Freddie's going to wake up?"

"Do you believe in signs, Carly?"

"Signs? Like, religious ones? No, those are just scams, me and Sam discussed this before."

"Well, I went out to get a water bottle and something to eat. When I was walking down the hall, there was a mother and her son sitting on one of the couches they had out there. The little boy was crying because he had fell and hurt his leg, and his mom was singing that song 'You Are My Sunshine' to him!"

I don't really see where this story is going, or what relevance it has to ANYTHING, but I keep listening. Maybe this is her crazy mom mind trying to find anything to latch on to to keep her sane.

"Don't you see? That song, 'You Are My Sunshine', I used to sing it to Freddie when he was little when he hurt himself, and he was always better after!"

"Um..."

"Hold on, I'll go get a doctor."

And she's gone. I don't really know what she was talking about, but hopefully it helps her keep from losing her mind until Freddie wakes up.

I turn back to Freddie. "See, Freddie? You have to wake up. If not, your mom's going to keep getting crazier. She's was bad enough before, don't make it any worse." Again, nothing. I don't know why I was expecting him to grin, to smile, to show even the slightest hint of a smirk, but he didn't.

"Freddie..." I whisper, closing both my hands around his motionless fingers. "You need to wake up... make sure you wake up, because I... I love you, Freddie." With that, I lean in to kiss his lips. I closed in, ready to give him the best intensive I could think of to wake up, when he spoke!

"Sam..." he croaked as he squeezed his eyes tight, making his eye lids look all raisiny.

"FREDDIE!" I shout, pouncing on him to crush him in my i'm-so-glad-your-okay hug.

"Sam..." he said again, and I felt something wet on my cheek. And I wasn't crying. I pulled back and wiped at the wet spot on my face. Then I noticed that it was actually Freddie who was crying. His eyes were open now, but they were glazed over. "I'm sorry, Sam..."

"What are you talking about? Why are you sorry?"

"It was my fault... I'm sorry Sam..." at that moment his eyes looked like they usually did, not glossed over, and he blinked a few times as he stared at the ceiling.

"It wasn't your fault, Freddie. What happened to Sam wasn't your fault."

"Umm..." he starts, his voice sounding raspy. He massages his throat for a moment before sitting up. "What exactly happened?"

I explained to him what Sam had told me. About how she got mugged in the alley, how he came to her rescue, how he got injured, then how Sam brought him back. He seemed surprised by the story, even the parts that he experienced.

"I really punched him?" he asked, blinking a few times. He looked down to his right hand, now balled into a fist.

"Yeah. Sam said you have a decent right hook, too, but she also said you were stupid to think you could one-shot him." Freddie blushed a little, looking down and scratching the back of his head. Aww, I embarrassed him!

"But Sam's really okay?" he asked, looking back up to me.

"Yeah, she's fine. I mean, she has some stitches in her arm and she lost a lot of blood, but she's perfectly fine now. She came in here a few minutes ago after she woke up." He nodded to himself, probably reassuring himself that everything was okay.

"Freddie, why were you saying it was your fault a second ago?"

"Oh..." he looks like someone let a little air out of his balloon. "Well... the whole thing was because of me. If I had went with her, none of this would have—"

"All right, enough of that!" I interrupt.

He looks up to me, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"We're done playing the blame game! First it was Sam, beating herself up because she froze up, and now you, blaming yourself for not being in the right place at the right time. I could blame myself for talking to you before you left, you could have gotten there sooner, and Spencer could blame himself for not talking to Sam longer to keep her from going into the alley. It was nobodies fault, it just happened! And I won't let you and Sam continue blaming your self's for something that was completely out of your control! Got it?"

Freddie looked amazed. I don't think I've ever been that forceful around him, but I think he understands. He smiles. A real smile. And it's at me. It's been a few months since I can remember him looking at me like that. This is honestly the highest point of the year so far. And it's only going to get higher. It doesn't matter how it happens, but I will make sure I have his eyes again. I will make sure that his whole world is just perfect, and that he will never have such a sad face on again.

"Carly..." he whispers, and I can hear him breathing heavier. He leans forward, towards me, and I realize that I was moving toward him. I can feel my own breath pick up, and my face feels hotter. "Carly..." he whispers again. Our noses are touching, just brushing beside each other on our way to—

"Oh my god, he really is awake!" Me and Freddie pull apart, snapping our heads to the door at whiplash speeds. A female doctor walks into the room, eyes wide at the sight of Freddie not in a coma. "Oh... sorry, am I interrupting...?" she asks, smirking and raising one eyebrow.

"Not really," I say, and notice Freddie's hurt look. I turn back to him. "It wasn't anything that we can't pick up later, right Freddie?"

"R-right!" he squeaks, looking much too energetic for someone who was just in a mini-coma. I kiss him on the cheek before getting up and heading out of the room. I have to tell Sam! About Freddie waking up, and about that almost-kiss!

I see Freddie's mom just entering the room as I stand up... thankfully, she didn't see anything. She may have just bugged out last time because Freddie got hurt helping me, but being attacked with underwear did not give me the impression she wanted anyone kissing him under any circumstances. I hear her screaming out in joy as I make it to the door, the first time (before the 'sunshine' sign) that she has seemed to act anything close to normal (for her).

I closed the door behind me. I start to head down to Sam's room, but I see Spencer jogging towards me.

"Hey Carly!" Spencer called as he made it up to me, "Look who I ran into!"

I looked behind him, and saw a face I had not thought I would see again... "Missy?"

"Yeah, it's me! How're ya doin'?"

"... I'm fine, Missy, but... why are you here?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean... last time we saw you, you were trying to get rid of my best friend."

"Yeah... I'm pretty ashamed of that. I really am. I want to apologize to Sam, but I want to apologize to you, too."

"To me...?"

"Yeah. I abused your friendship, and your trust, but I really want to be your friend. See, when I won that studies at sea ticket, I found out that I'm still sea sick. I was on that boat for six whole months, and I had a horrible experience the entire time. But, when I finally got off that boat, I met this man who taught me about karma. He had this list with him, a list of all the bad things he'd ever done, and he was making up for all of them one by one. He woke up one day and realized he had a horrible life, and it was because he was a bad person, but ever since he started doing the list, his life has been better. I didn't believe him at first, but I followed him around for a little bit and saw it work for myself. And that's when I realized; I had been a horrible friend to you, and a horrible person to Sam, and that's why I got stuck on that boat. So... basically I want to make it up to you and Sam, and if you'd let me, I'd like to be your friend again."

"Wow... that's pretty amazing Missy. That's why you were gone for almost four years?"

"Oh... no, that all only took a week or two. The cruise was more than just a cruise, it was also a gateway to collage. I spent the last four years at collage because I passed the test they had at the end, but that's besides the point. I really valued our friendship, and I went about keeping it the wrong way. So, what do you say Carly? Can I be your friend again?"

"... do you understand that Sam is my best friend?"

"Yes! I know we can probably never be best friend after how I acted, but I'd like to just be friends with you."

I feel myself smile. I really did miss my friendship with Missy. I was really hurt that she would do what she did, but seeing her now, all grown up and mature, admitting what she did and apologizing like an adult, I couldn't help but accept her. I hugged her, and felt her hug back. "Of course, Missy!"

After the hug, which probably lasted 12 or 13 seconds, I asked her what i'd been wondering since I saw her. "When did you get here?"

"Oh, I rented an apartment here about a week ago. I spent the first two days unpacking and setting everything up with my job and everything, and when I finally got ready to come and see you, I found out Sam and Freddie got hurt!"

"When did you find out?"

"The day it happened. I met Spencer right after it happened, and he told me everything."

"Spencer!" I shouted, causing him to jump and snap his attention back to me from where he had been eye-flirting with a rather attractive nurse. "Why didn't you tell me my long-lost friend had showed up!"

"Um... well, she said she didn't want to show up before Sam was alright. I picked her up after I got your text," he said, holding up his phone (AN: before Sam was fully awake, Carly sent him a quick text, like "Sam's up!").

"Yeah," Missy said, nodding her assent, "I wanted you two to see me in person first, it was supposed to be a surprise."

"Alright," I said, giving Spencer one last look that told him he barely escaped my wrath. "Well, Freddie just woke up, and Sam's in her room so—"

"Freddie woke up?" Spencer almost shouted, about as excited as I thought he'd be to here the news. "You didn't mention that in your text!"

"He just woke up before I ran into you, calm down. He's in there now with his mother and the doctor."

"Gotta go!" he blurted as he brushed past me and into Freddie's room.

"Alright," I told him just before he fell out of earshot. I turned to Missy. "Could you go wait with Freddie for a little bit? I need to explain what happened to Sam while I bring her to see Freddie."

"She _wants_ to see Freddie?" she asks, seemingly incapable of believing that.

"Yeah, she's been really worried the whole time."

"But... last time I saw them, the couldn't stand each other, and they didn't... oh my god, are they dating?"

"What? No no no no, no, nothing like that! They're just really good friends!"

"Are you sure? I've seen quite a few secret relationships while I've been away, and many times they pretend to hate each other when in public, but when they're alone they start, you know..."

"Alright, Missy, I won't let you be my friend if you insist on mentally scaring me!" she giggles, and I try to get rid of the mental images of the unthinkable, Freddie and Sam doing... _that_, from my mind.

"I'll be waiting in Freddie's room, then," Missy said, walking towards Freddie's room, "The one Spencer went in, right?"

"Yeah," I tell her. I shake my head a little, in a final effort to get the images out of my head (it works), then head of to Sam's room. She might not be happy to see Missy, but I'm sure she'll start to like her after a while. I think Freddie will too. After all, they've both grown up quite a bit lately.

**

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Author's box

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**

… well, that's the chapter. I'd like reviews. The'd be awesome. Well, aside from that, I don't really have anything special to say about this chapter. Just remember that Carly is the type of character who see's the world through her own special tinted glasses. Oh, and I get to do a Freddie chapter again next time! Oh, let me give you a preview thing like they do on cartoons!

Freddie's finally awake, but will he be able to handle Missy? Will Missy be revealed for who she truly is? Can Freddie handle the strain of Sam refusing to see him? Next time on Stolen Eyes!


	7. 07 Misunderstood F

yo. Another chapter. It's awesome. Read it. Sorry, there's not much else to say.

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**(Freddie)**

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After I dropped Carly off at Spencer's place, I headed off to see Missy. I took the long route, though. I wanted to avoid even passing nearby my mother. I'm not quite ready to see her yet, but talking to Missy will help. It always helps. And I know why it helps, I'm not the person to fool himself... well, not anymore. I know fully well that it has nothing to do with Missy as a person.

And here I stand, in front of the door to Missy's home. I had knocked, and heard a few things knock over. It was silent for a moment, then I heard something else make a lot of noise as it (presumably) hit the floor. After a total of about 8 seconds, the door opened. "Oh, Freddie, you're here!"

"Yeah, here I am," I say, smiling as she ushers me into her apartment. Standing just inside her living room, I see what was knocked over. She had knocked over a lamp and the tower to the computer I made for her, which for some reason was in the middle of the walk way again. "Missy, I've told you before that you need to keep that out of the way," I tell her, gesturing to the toppled tower.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot..." she whispered before giggling. I sighed, picked up the tower, and pushed it out of the way and under the computer desk, where it should be. I looked up and saw her picking up the lamp. It had not broken, so that's something.

"You know you don't have to rush to the door every time, right? If you took your time a little more often, things wouldn't always be falling all the time."

"Yeah, you're right," she says softly, tucking some of her blonde hair behind her ear. That's right, I did not misspeak, nor did you mishear. Missy has blonde hair. She's naturally a red head of course, her hair now is dyed, but still.

I look over to her 'work area', as she calls it. There is a half finished sculpture, an actual sculpture made by chiseling an image out of a rock, holding steady on her 'work stand'. I can't make much of it out, but I think I see wings. "What's that going to be?"

"Hmm?" she hums, following my gaze to her incomplete art piece. "Oh! That's going to be something special, just for me! It's going to be a heart with wings that are in front of it like a shield."

"That's pretty cool."

"Yeah..." it's quiet for a moment as I stare at the sculpture. She's staring at me, I can feel it, even though I can't actually see her. "Freddie..."

"Yeah?"

"You know my offer is still open, right?"

"I... I know... I'm sorry Missy, I just don't think I could do that. For now I'm satisfied with just this."

"... Alright..." her voice is soft, wounded. She's been at this for a while, and I'm sure my coming to see her every time I'm in Seattle isn't sending of the 'I don't want anything more' signal. She tilts into me, burying her head into my shoulder, and lets loose a dainty sigh.

It's funny, if someone where to see the situation right now they would never imagine how me and Missy really met. I mean, I met her when she first came around, but we barely said two words to each other until she came back... yeah, it was then, wasn't it? When I was in the hospital.

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**Flash Back**

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It's pretty strange waking up in a hospital without knowing how you got hurt, or even the situation in which it happened. Apparently, I had lost my memory of a minute or two before I was hit.

The doctor, who is currently giving me a short test to see if I know how to count, if I can see correctly, and if I can hear what she's saying and repeat it back to her, told me that I didn't receive any physical damage from the attack. She said that besides the short coma, the slight memory loss, and the lump on the back of my head, I was perfectly fine. I would be able to leave tomorrow. She said I would need to spend the night at the hospital to make sure I was fine, though.

My mother, who, after screeching and hugging me, was standing at the back of the room, waiting patiently for the small set of test to be over with so she could smother me again. I was frantically thinking underneath my calm composure about how I would keep her from going off on/about Sam. From what I heard, I ran into the danger. After carelessly throwing myself into danger, I arrogantly ignored one of the most dangerous people I'd ever been around. And for my arrogance and carelessness, I earned a trip to the hospital... yeah, that puts all the blame on me. I won't like how she will act afterward (becoming even more overly protective), but it's a necessary sacrifice if I want to keep Sam out of her cross-hairs.

"Alright, you seem well enough." the doctor said as she stood up, straitening her doctor's coat. "I'll have a nurse come by later to set you up, okay?"

I nodded. "Okay." She smiled at me in that friendly doctor way, inclining her head slightly in response before turning to walk out of the room.

"N-now, mom... about this whole thing, please don't be mad at Sam!" I insisted, watching her cautiously as she just smiled.

"I'm not mad at Sam," she said as she made her way over to me.

"Y-you're not?" I asked as she hugged me again.

"No..." she whispered before pulling back. "I realize now that it's not Sam's fault you got hurt, and it wasn't Carly's fault when you got hit by that taco truck a few years ago either."

I felt my eyebrows scrunch up. I was confused. "What do you mean? Before I all this happened you still held a grudge against Carly for that... what happened?"

"You helped Sam."

"What?"

"I realized it because of what you did for Sam. You can't help it, you just throw yourself into the middle of danger to save people who are important to you. You would probably wouldn't hesitate to do the same for that husky friend of yours, Gibby. Carly's brother and me, too. You just care too much about the people you're close to to allow anything to happen if you can help it. I can accept that now, and I'm proud of you."

I couldn't help but smile. My mother has told me how much she loved me, how much she cared about me and my safety, and how happy she was that I had found good friends who genuinely cared about me (even if she disapproved of the selection) many times over each, but this was the first time she had ever told me she was proud of me. I felt my smile grow a little more. "Thanks, mom."

Before she could respond, the hospital room door opened. Spencer burst into the room. "Freddo!" he shouted at seeing me. About how I thought he would react upon seeing me awake. I chuckle at his outburst, but my mother doesn't seem as entertained by his outburst.

"Spencer, what are you doing! We are in a hospital, and my Freddie doesn't need you screaming about whenever you feel like it!"

Spencer stopped, his enthusiastic expression snapping into a respectful one while his lips pursed to keep any more words from carelessly getting loose. "Sorry Mrs. Benson..." he whispered as he circled around her. When he got to the point where his back was to me, where he was directly in between me and my mother, he quickly spun to me with the expression he entered the room with. "You're awake!" he shouted in his whisper voice.

"Yeah, I'm awake," I say only an instant before he wraps me in a surprise hug. "N-nice to see you again too, Spencer," I wheeze, his hug making it for me to talk naturally.

"Ahhhh, little buddy...!" he says, pulling away from me and wiping at the corners of his eyes. "Sorry, I just... oh man, it's like watching Titanic all over again..."

I stifle a laugh. Yeah, Spencer can get pretty emotional when it comes to us getting hurt. Oh man, he was a complete mess when he first came to see me after I got hit by that truck when I had first regained consciousness in the hospital,

"It's alright, Spencer, I'm fine." just as I said that, I heard the door open again. I looked up to see who it was, and saw a girl I had not seen for quite some time walk in. Why was she here? How did she know I was in the hospital? Why is she in my room? "Mom, Spencer, can you give us a minute?"

Spencer snuffled, turned to see who I was talking about, then nodded. "Sure, I'll go see how Sam's doing. Let me know when you're finished."

"Freddie, who's this girl?" my mother asked as Spencer exited the room, looking her up and down trying to see if an image of this girl was anywhere in her memory. It wasn't. My mother had never met Missy.

"A _friend_," I said, straining the word friend. She didn't deserve that title, and by the look of sudden discomfort on her face she knew what I meant.

"Alright... I'll be outside, let me know when you're done." She turned to leave, glancing back to look at the girl one last time before disappearing into the hall just outside the room.

It was quiet in the room. I stared at Missy as she fidgeted a little, staring back at me with a concerned expression. It wasn't concern for my well being because I was in a hospital, it was concern for herself.

"Hey, Freddie..." she ventured, cautiously. Only then did I realize I was glaring at her. My fists were clenched, and my jaw was locked. I closed my eyes and took a deep brath, taking advantage of those Buddhist calming techniques I learned from the "Mother and Son Shaolin Meditation" classes my mother brought me to a while ago. When I opened my eyes, I felt completely at ease. Missy seemed a little more relaxed as well.

"Have four years passed already?" I asked, leaning back into the bed (which was angled at a 45 degree angle so I could still face forward).

"Four years?" Missy repeated, sounding so much like a parrot.

"Yeah, I assumed that when you didn't show up after six months you had earned a ticket into college." She seemed genuinely surprised I knew that.

"How did you know about the college?" she asked, taking a step closer to me.

"Because it was originally my ticket."

"Then... then why did I have it?"

"I gave it to you, obviously. You went to college, presumably got a degree of some kind, and you still can't figure out that much?

"N... no, I mean why would you give it away to a person you hardly knew? Did you know it was a free pass into Harvard?"

"Yeah, I knew what college it was for, but that's besides the point. You were hurting Sam, and if giving away a free pass to Harvard was what it takes to help a friend, I'd pay that price without a moments hesitation."

"Wow... you really are willing to sacrifice that much just for your friends?"

"Yes... and that brings me to my next point. You've talked to Carly, right?"

"Yeah. I explained everything, and we're friends again."

I nod before pulling myself out of bed. "Carly probably trusts you already," I say as walk towards her. I didn't stop walking until our faces were about 5 inches apart. She leaned back slightly, her face becoming concerned again, "Carly likes to see the best in people, and she is too quick to believe someone has changed. Do **not** prove her wrong." My voice was threatening, and ice cold. She flinched at the word 'not'.

"W-what are you going to do if I do?" she asked, her voice shaking. She was attempting to hide how scared she was. I assume she's never really had any sort of serious confrontation before now. Oh well.

"If I would give up a free pass into Harvard and start a fight with thugs in a dark alley to keep Sam safe, if I would throw myself in front of a truck to protect Carly, what do you think I would do to someone who hurt them?" I asked her, using a tone that seems like it would be used to happily greet someone. Though, however much it sounded that way, there was the unmistakable hint of malice that turned the 'morning greeting tone' to a 'death threat'.

Her eyes were wide, and I saw sweat on her paling face. I hear her gulp loudly before she nods her head, tears starting to form at the corners of her eyes. "O-okay..."

"Okay what?" I growled, causing her to flinch again as she fell back half a step.

"I-I-I p-promise I won't do anything to hurt either of them!" she whimpers, her eyes locked onto mine in the way you'd imagine a scared animal, staring paralyzed by a predator.

I stare into her eyes for a several long seconds. As time goes by, more and more tears well up in her eyes until they begin to spill over onto her cheeks. I close my eyes and lean towards her. I get so close that I can hear the barely audible sound of her teeth quivering, the right side of my face about an inch from touching the side of her face. I snort, and I hear her flinch again. "Get out of my sight, I have nothing more to say to you."

She chokes out a sob before turning and scurrying out of the room with a surprising amount of elegance. I sigh the biggest sigh I've ever sighed. Wow, that was hard! I've never been like that before... it was tiring, and it felt so wrong!

See, thing is, I didn't mean any of that. Well, none of the threat. I've been around Sam and her family so often that I know how to threaten someone, but I've never needed it until now. I took the tone of boiling-just-beneath-the-surface anger from Sam's uncle Anton, the slight hint of malice that makes even a greeting sound threatening from her aunt Vivi, the animalistic growl that I saw scare off a fox one time from her cousin Dayton, the aggressive stance that would make a bear back down from her other aunt Cat, the snort and the final dismissive/aggressive tone that you'd expect from a cold father to a unloved child from her other cousin Maria, the cold composure (which I think was performed the best) that made me seem like a stone cold killer when combined with everything else from Sam herself, and finally, the smallest but most dramatic effect I added to the word 'not', I learned from her grandmother Ann. Her grandmother was very intimidating, and had a decent quality of menace in all categories, but the emphasis she used on certain words was amazing. It would cause children as well as adults to freeze in fright, and do whatever it was she was asking without question and without hesitation.

It was an act that could only work on someone like Missy who didn't know the real me. I have another act, one I'm saving for a real special occasion, one I think could even scare Sam, if only for the moment it took her to realize it was an act and then break my arm for threatening her like that.

"Man, if Sam had heard that she'd have so much respect for me..." I say to myself as I move back towards my bed, "Her family would probably accept me as an extended son or something, too." I shiver at the thought of being a part of that family... it's such a terrifying thought, I'm actually getting goosebumps...

Just before I can get back in my bed, the door opens again. "Freddie?"

"Yeah?" I ask, hopping into the hospital bed. I see Carly walking into the room with a worried expression.

"What happened to Missy?" she asked, closing the door quietly behind her.

"I don't know. Why?"

"Because... she just ran out of here crying..."

"Really?" I asked, pushing the my lying/selective misinformation skills I learned from Sam to the limit. I don't really want to lie to her, but if she finds out what happened she will A) make me apologize and ruin everything I accomplished, and B)... I probably won't get that kiss she promised earlier.

Her entire face shifts into a frown as she puts her thinking face on. Crap! When she starts thinking, she asks questions, and if she asks a question too close to the truth I won't be able to lie anymore. "Where's Sam?" I ask, desperate to change the subject.

"Oh... she said she'll come by later, she's doing something right now."

"What's she doing?" I ask, feeling a little... I don't know, hurt? I think so, but... why would I be hurt that Sam had more important things to do then come to see me after I had woken up?

"I don't know, but I think she's still a little tired from everything that happened. You know how she's always acting tough, she wouldn't tell me if she thought it would make her look weak."

"Yeah, that's probably what she's doing." I sigh and lean back into the bed, still feeling hollow at the thought of Sam choosing to sit in her room over coming to see me. Hmmm... I don't know why, but whenever I'm in a hospital bed, I feel like I'm in my own bed, back at home... strange, huh? It's almost like I sleep in a hospital bed at home... No, that's too crazy to even imagine.

I... I admit I tend to get lost in thought a little too often, but I've never been brought back to reality like this. I've never had Carly kiss me too bring me back down to earth... it was nice. Very nice. Just the same as I remember it being the first time we kissed, only she pulls back before too long.

"You still with me, or do we need another doctor?" she asks teasingly, a smirk on the lips I can still taste... she's not wearing any lip gloss like she normally does, and only then did I notice she wasn't wearing her normal make-up, and her hair wasn't done like she normally had it done. Had she been so worried about me that she had not performed her morning rituals? When she looks into a mirror, she'll probably think she looks horrible, a mess, but... I don't know, I don't think I've ever seen her like this. She's more beautiful than I ever remember her being. She's got a, I don't know how to really explain it, but... wait, why's she frowning? "Seriously Freddie, are you okay? Do I need to get another doctor?"

"O-oh, no, I was just... you know... um..." I fumbled, trying my hardest not to say something cheesy like 'I was mesmerized by your beauty'... although, she always seems to enjoy those types of lines in those boring movies she makes me watch. "I was actually... sorta mesmerized by your beauty."

Her reaction was... unexpected. "Y-you..." she chuckled, sucking in her lip and covering her mouth with one of her hands. After a moment of awkwardly fidgeting and making strange noises in her seat, she busted out laughing. Right in my face. Totally not a line I will be using again. Ever. "Oh my god, Freddie, you did not just," she started, but couldn't finish because of her laughter. Yup. World's number one idiot. Right here. "N-no more c-chick flick's for you, Freddie!" she tried to say seriously before she started up her laughing fit again. Yeah. This is fun. I love my life.

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**Author's box**

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yeah. Wicked chapter. I personally think this is on of the best chapters yet, but that's only because I'm a sucker for good action sequences in which a girl kicks ass. Anyway, yeah, if you are reading this, and are thinking to your self something like, "Why is Zidiane so awesome?", or, "i didn't think Zidiane could get any more awesome, did you?", or, "Hot damn, this Zidiane guy is the most awesome thing since facebook!". Or, "Can I be as awesome as Zidiane?" or, you know, basically anything with me and awesome anywhere withing the same two sentences of each other, then leave me a review. Don't be shy.

Also, sorry about the chapter preview last time. I had left my basic plan for the next chapter, but Sam's absence wasn't really noticed outside of that small line of dialogue and inner monologue.

Sorry, but, I'm not sure how long it will be before I start another chapter. In my awesomeness, I have started up my own original story. I want to fix up one more chapter of that before I start anything more with this one. And the more reviews, the faster I'll be able to return to this story. While not reviews for the original story, I will still reserve the energy for anything I need it for. In this case, my original story. I once felt so good from a batch of reviews that I was able to finish two chapters from two different stories. So, yeah, don't underestimate the power of reviews.


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